Shadows Over Nerima
by Jeremy Harper
Summary: Six years ago, after a training accident in California, Ranma was separated from his father. Now Ranma is returning to Japan. Genma is about to spring a big surprise on Ranma, while Ranma has a very big secret of his own.
1. Prologue

Shadows Over Nerima

A Ranma 1/2 - Batman fan fiction

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.

* * *

Prologue

Ranma Saotome sat at the end of the dinner table, reading the sloppy scrawl of the letter in his hand for the third time, his lips pursed in a tight, pensive frown.

"You don't have to see him, if you don't want to," his guardian said from the other end of the table, the older man's tone mild and supportive.

"I know," said Ranma.

"He has no legal ties to you anymore. I saw to that. He cannot compel you to visit."

"I know."

"Yet you still want to go." This was a statement, simply spoken, neither question nor accusation.

Ranma took a deep breath and looked up from the letter. "I haven't forgiven him for throwing me in that damn pit four times over, but yet..." He hesitated, then shrugged. "He's my pop. I don't really like him, but I guess I still care for him, at least a little. I'm also a bit curious about this 'family matter' he mentions." Ranma sighed. "And I think I'm also a little homesick for Japan."

His guardian nodded and sipped his coffee. Ranma fiddled with the letter a moment before setting it aside. "Summer vacation starts next Wednesday. You can spare me?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

"Dinner is served, sirs," the butler announced, setting a plate of veal Parmesan before Ranma. The young man murmured his thanks and starting cutting up his meal. As he ate he gave the manservant who had also been a grandfather to him the past six years a speculative look.

"You've got something like ten years of vacation time saved up," Ranma said to him. "How about spending a few weeks of it by coming to Japan with me, Alfred."

Alfred Pennyworth smiled at the youngest of his two boys. "I would be delighted, Master Ranma. That is, of course, if Master Bruce can spare me as well."

Bruce Wayne chuckled as he took another sip of coffee. "Certainly, old friend. You more than deserve a break. And maybe you'll have better lucking keeping the boy out of trouble than I do."

"What is the phrase, Master Bruce? Ah, yes – 'fat chance'."

Ranma laughed happily and settled down to the important business that was the family dinner.

* * *

Author's note – I am not using any particular Batman continuity for this story. It is a mélange of various elements from the original animated series, the comics, the Arkham-verse, and any other elements as I see fit.

Enjoy.


	2. Chapter 1

Shadows Over Nerima

A Ranma ½ – Batman Fan Fiction

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.

* * *

Chapter 1

Alfred Pennyworth, resplendent in his suit of spotless white drill, knocked on the bedroom door, arching an eyebrow when he heard no response. He knocked again. "Master Ranma?" he called. A muffled, sleepy muttering answered, which he interpreted as permission to open the door. He found Ranma sitting up in bed, bare-chested, sheets tangled around his legs. It was obvious that the young man had spent a restless night. "Good morning, Master Ranma."

Ranma blinked owlishly at him. "What time is it, Alfred?" His voice was thick from sleep.

"Ten-thirty, sir." Ranma blinked again, looked at the clock-radio on the bed-stand then winced.

"Damn it, I should have been up two hours ago." He threw the sheets off and swung his pajama-clad legs off the bed. "Sorry about that, Alfred."

"Now, now, Master Ranma. Language," said Alfred with reproving humor.

Ranma laughed. "Sorry again." He sighed deeply, scrubbing at his face for a moment with both hands and then running them through his hair. "Jet-lag usually doesn't hit me this hard," he muttered.

"You've had much on your mind; that must be taken into consideration. Are you ready for breakfast, sir?"

Ranma grinned. "Since when am I not?" He stood up. "Fifteen minutes."

"Very good, sir," said Alfred. He closed the door as Ranma walked to his dresser.

* * *

As Alfred sat at the dining table, idly thumbing through a copy of the _Times _while waiting for his young charge, he reflected on the past six years and the changes Ranma had brought to the Wayne household and the particular double-life led by Bruce Wayne. Who could have guessed that the suspicious, rude young boy Bruce had taken from circumstances that made Alfred's flesh creep to contemplate, would become not only a son in all but name to the billionaire and a grandson to himself, but also the first of a new generation striving to ease the stranger problems plaguing a troubled world. Alfred personally believed in neither fate nor predestination, but the existence of Ranma Saotome often made him wonder.

Ranma strolled into the dining room, dressed in a short-sleeved burgundy dress shirt and black trousers, his unruly mane of thick black hair as tamed as it ever could be and his pigtail neatly tied. His large blue eyes lit up at the sight of a tradition Japanese breakfast of steamed rice, miso soup, natto and tamagoyaki laid out on the table. "This beats Captain Crunch with Crunchberries any day."

Alfred smiled, folding the _Times_ neatly and setting it aside. "Indeed sir. I thought you would appreciate the change. I also considered it an appropriate way to celebrate our return to the land of your birth."

"Thank you, Alfred," Ranma said as he sat down. "You're looking spiffy today. It's always a treat seeing you dressed up in something other than bulter-black."

"Well, I am technically on vacation, Master Ranma," Alfred said with a chuckle. "Speaking of which, have you given any thought on our itinerary for the next four weeks?"

Ranma pursed his lips thoughtfully as he chewed a mouthful of rice. Swallowing it, he shook his head. "In all honesty, no. I've been, uh, preoccupied about seeing the Old Man." Alfred nodded in understanding. "If that goes well I'll want to spend some time visiting with him. I also would like to pay my respects to Yoru-sensei. But other than that I've got nothing set in stone. I'm more than happy to play tour guide for you. I traveled all over Japan with pop before our trip to California."

"That sounds splendid, Master Ranma. I would like to see Kyoto, and perhaps spend a few days south in Okinawa."

Ranma grinned. "It's a plan, then." He turned his attention to the miso soup.

As breakfast progressed Alfred watched Ranma with a little concern, for the young man was not eating with his usual gusto. While not the savage he had been at ten, the habits ingrained in him by his unorthodox upbringing still had some holds on him, making him something of a fast eater. But he was not one today – he lingered over his breakfast, eating slowly as if to stretch out the meal. "Are you feeling well, Master Ranma?"

"Yeah. Just thinking, is all." He pushed away his bowl, wiped his mouth with a napkin and smiled crookedly. "Don't worry Alfred. I wouldn't have come all this way if I hadn't wanted to. That's not to say I wouldn't rather be hanging out with Roy, Donna and Wally this summer..." His smile faded as he trailed off. He shrugged and looked out the penthouse suite's huge widows, taking in the Tokyo skyline gleaming in the late morning sun.

"He's your father," Alfred said softly.

Ranma sighed and nodded. "I don't like him. Maybe I did once, when I was little. Some days I hate the son-of-a-bitch." Unconsciously, Ranma rubbed his forearm; if Alfred looked closely, he knew he would just be able to see a hashwork of very faint, thin scars on the young man's fair skin. Ranma sighed again. "But he's my pop. For better or worse he laid the foundation that Bruce built on to make me what I am today."

"I will give the man the credit he's due – he did a good job, despite his flaws," said Alfred.

"I wonder about that, sometimes," Ranma said softly. He laughed suddenly. "You know, I can't think of two men more different than each other than Bruce and my Old Man, but they do share at least one thing in common – the belief that it's a martial artist's duty to help those in need. Pop drilled that into me from day one." Ranma shook his head. "Of course, pop also had the bad habit of forgetting that creed when it was convenient."

Alfred said nothing, simply finishing his coffee. He glanced at his wristwatch. "We should consider leaving now, Master Ranma. We're meeting your father at the address he provided us at one. It is only eleven-fifteen now, but from what I remember Tokyo traffic can be strenuous."

Ranma nodded. "Okay." They rose from the table and left the suite, leaving the clean-up for the hired kitchen staff.

* * *

The drive to Nerima, the ward where Genma Saotome wished to meet his estranged son, was quiet and uneventful. Ranma stared out the window of the hired Benz, wearing the designer sunglasses he had been favoring since his recent birthday. He grew very still the closer they came to their destination, becoming as motionless as an iron statue. Alfred watched him, running various scenarios and possibilities through his keen and disciplined mind. He had never experienced the dubious pleasure of Genma Saotome's presence – only Bruce had had any direct dealings with the man, most of them in his civilian identity, and one memorable time in the guise of his dark and sinister alter-ego. But Alfred knew everything that the Batman knew about Saotome, and was distinctly unimpressed, even though the man was reputedly a powerful martial artist. Alfred was determined to help Ranma through the meeting to the best of his ability, and would not hesitate to remove the young man from Genma's presence if the need proved to be prudent.

The Benz rolled to a stop before the gates of a small walled estate located on a residential street. "We're here, sirs," the chauffeur announced.

"Thank you, " said Alfred. "We should be no more than two hours."

"Very good, sir."

Alfred looked at the estate curiously. While no manor, it was impressively large private residence for a ward of Tokyo, where living space was at a premium. He blinked when he heard Ranma mutter, "What the hell?"

"Is something wrong, Master Ranma?" Ranma pointed at a sign next to the gate.

"'Tendo School of Anything Goes Martial Arts,'" Ranma translated, knowing Alfred's reading comprehension of Japanese did not quite match his spoken fluency. "Anything Goes is my family style, but pop never said anything about anyone other than us practicing it."

Alfred frowned thoughtfully. "Peculiar. One would think he would have mention such a fact, perhaps even have you train with the school's master."

The gates of the estate swung inward and a man stepped into the street, looking expectantly at the Benz. He was slightly shorter than both Ranma and Alfred, broad and stout of build. He was bare-foot, wearing a gray gi, a bandana covering the top of his head and athletic glasses flashing over his eyes.

"Pop," said Ranma. He took a deep breath. "Here we go." He opened the car's door and stepped out.

"Into the breach," said Alfred as he donned his Panama hat and followed Ranma out of the car.


	3. Chapter 2

Shadows Over Nerima

A Ranma ½/Batman Fan Fiction

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.

* * *

Chapter 2

Ranma approached Genma, removing his sunglasses and placing them in his shirt pocket before sketching his father a polite bow, which was returned almost grudgingly. Ranma waited patiently for Genma to speak, keeping his expression carefully neutral as Genma looked him over closely, the older man seeming to search for any flaw, no matter how minor, to criticize. Once finished he looked Ranma in the eyes. "Ranma," he said.

"Father," said Ranma. Genma arched an eyebrow at being politely addressed by his son.

"Well," said Genma, "it looks like you haven't gone _completely_ soft in the time you've been away from my tutelage."

Ranma's forced a smile. "Thank you. You're looking well, yourself." Genma grunted in agreement; whether his father had ignored or missed the sarcasm in his tone, Ranma could not tell.

Genma looked over Ranma's shoulder at Alfred. "Who's this?"

Alfred bowed in British fashion, doffing his Panama hat. "Good afternoon, Mr. Saotome," he said in excellent Japanese. "I am Alfred Pennyworth, Mr. Wayne's valet and personal confidant. I am serving as Master Ranma's chaperone for his stay in Japan."

Genma snorted. "'Master Ranma?' Valet? Perhaps I'm wrong about you being soft, boy."

Ranma sighed explosively. "And I see you still go out of your way to be an offensive asshole," he snapped, his tensions getting the better of him. "The only reason I'm here is that you wrote in your letter that some important family business has come up and you _absolutely_ had to talk to me in person about it. So, against my better judgment I flew seven-thousand miles from Gotham to see you, but don't think I won't turn around and leave if you piss me off enough, old man."

Alfred looked at Ranma disapprovingly and with concern, but to his surprise Genma seemed pleased by the harsh words. "It is good to know you haven't been neutered yet," he said. "Very well, boy, I won't waste any more time pointing out your numerous flaws." He laughed at Ranma's indignant scowl and gestured at the open gate. "Come, there are people I want you to meet before we talk." He turned and walked back into the Tendo estate. Ranma scowled at his broad back before stalking after him, Alfred following.

A stone path led through a well-kept yard to a two story house. On the step before the front door stood a woman dressed in a dark-blue kimono. She was tall and serenely lovely, with deep-auburn hair styled short and expressive gray eyes. She held cradled in her arms a slim, long bundle of dark silk. At the sight of Ranma stepping through the gate her face lit up with a smile. She started down the path toward him. "Ranma," she called out.

Ranma watched her approach curiously. Behind him, Alfred's brows lifted as he looked at the woman. She seemed familiar, somehow. He glanced at Ranma, then with a start back at her. "My word," he muttered.

The woman stopped a few feet away from Ranma. "Ranma," she said again, her voice hoarse with emotion, only a little louder than a whisper. "It's so good to see you again. It's been so long." She took a handkerchief from her kimono and dabbed at the tears brimming in her eyes.

Ranma pursed his lips. "Uh, forgive me ma'am, but do I know you?"

"Foolish boy," said Genma. "Don't you recognize your own mother?"

Ranma's eyes went wide at this pronouncement. "Muh- mother?" he stuttered out. The woman nodded happily and stepped close, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into her embrace. He stood unmoving, arms hanging limply at his sides, stunned. Stumbling onto Bruce's secret life some six years ago had not surprised him as completely as this revelation had. Ranma shook his head, forcing himself out of his daze. He raised his arms and carefully hugged the woman back, almost afraid that she would suddenly vanish. "Mom? I... I can't believe this. I thought... well, back when I was traveling with the old... I mean with pop, he never mentioned you, even in passing. I thought you were dead..."

"A mother's love is a distraction on the road of mastery," proclaimed Genma sententiously. "That's why I took you away, so you could learn the martial arts properly without her coddling."

Ranma felt anger spike through him, heard Alfred mutter something distinctly uncomplimentary under his breath. Ranma turned his head to yell at his father but was checked when his mother pulled away from his hug and cupped his cheek with one slim hand. "My darling son," she murmured. "You've grown into a fine man."

"He _is_ a fine man, madam," said Alfred, schooling his expression carefully, concealing his own anger at Genma's statement. "I can attest to that."

Ranma's mother looked at him with polite curiosity. "And you are, sir?"

Alfred bowed, again doffing his Panama. "Alfred Pennyworth, madam. For the past six years it has been both my privilege and my pleasure to help Mister Wayne look after Master Ranma."

"Then I am deeply in your debt," she said, bowing deeply to him. "I am Nodoka Saotome. Tell me, Mr Pennyworth-"

"Please, madam, call me Alfred."

Nodoka smiled at him. "Alfred, then. Tell me, is my son manly?"

Alfred hesitated a moment, uncertain how to interpret the question. "As I said, Mrs. Saotome, he is a fine young man. Any parent would be proud to call him a son."

Nodoka's smile grew, and she again wiped at her eyes. "I'm so happy." She looked at Ranma and hugged him again. "I've missed you terribly. We have so much catching up to do."

"Yeah..." murmured Ranma. "Yeah, I guess we do." A small smile graced his face, becoming larger by the second as a gentle warmth kindled and spread within him.

"But that can wait," said Genma, growing annoyed at the display of affection playing out before him. "We have more important matters to see to."

Alfred frowned sharply at him. "With all due respect, Mr. Saotome, but what could possibly be more important than Master Ranma reuniting with his mother after all these years?"

"Seeing my friend Soun Tendo," Genma answered. "That's why I wanted to meet the boy here. Come Ranma, I'll explain inside." Genma marched toward the front door. Nodoka kissed Ranma on the cheek and let go of him, following her husband. Ranma walked after his parents in a daze, amazed that he was in the presence of his mother, a figure that he had but dim recollections of, a person more dream than memory to him. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his wrist. Alfred frowned thoughtfully as he walked slowly behind Ranma. He had noted a pleased gleam in Genma's eye that he did not like. There was a scheme gestating here, of that much he was certain. This sudden introduction, without warning, of Ranma to his mother had totally disarmed the young man. A masterful stroke, Alfred reluctantly conceded, but for what purpose? A plea for money, perhaps? Genma had received significant compensation when he surrendered his parental rights to Bruce, but knowing the nature of the man Alfred would not be surprised if had managed to spend it all in six years. Yet for some reason Alfred doubted that was Genma's plan – why involve a friend if he was looking for more money? Alfred sighed inaudibly. All he could do right now was watch and be wary.

In the house's genkan Ranma and Alfred slipped out of their shoes and donned house slippers shown to them by Nodoka. As they stepped into the hallway Genma called out, "He's here, Tendo." A man appeared in the hall, practically running towards the group, accompanied by a young woman. The man looked around Genma's age, and slightly taller than the elder Saotome. He was muscular and fit, dressed in a dark blue gi, his black hair nape-length and a neatly trimmed mustache adorning his lip. The young woman was quite attractive, her dark-brown hair cut in a bob that framed her round face to excellent effect, while a dark tank-top and denim shorts showed of a trim and shapely figure. Both man and woman locked their eyes on Ranma; both seemed very excited to meet him, and even with all the experience he had being scrutinized at the various social functions he had accompanied Bruce to, Ranma felt a little unnerved by the intensity of their regard.

The man spoke first. "You are Ranma?" Ranma nodded, and was startled by the tears that began to brim in the man's eyes. "I am Soun Tendo. I am very, very pleased to meet you, son." Suddenly overcome by emotion, Soun seized Ranma in a fierce, crushing bear hug. Ranma's eyes bulged as his breath was forced from him, a small part of him feeling scandalized by this display of affection from a man he had never met before. To his credit Soun noticed Ranma going stiff and quickly let him go. "Forgive me, Ranma. It's just that I've been looking forward to this day for a very long time."

"Ah, that's okay, Mr. Tendo," he said, surreptitiously checking his sunglasses to make sure they had not been crushed; Roy had given them to him as a birthday present this year, and they were his favorite pair.

The young woman stepped close to him, looking him up and down in a very appraising way. If Soun Tendo's actions had taken Ranma off his guard, her expression instantly put him back on it. He had seen similar looks many times in the past, sometimes on the faces of girls his age, but more often on the faces of their mothers. It was a look that, on the faces of the dowagers of Gotham, all but screamed, _it doesn't matter if he is a grubby Asian boy of dubious origin, he's the ward of the wealthiest man on the East Coast, so do your best to get your hooks into him. _"Ooh, daddy, he's cute!" she cooed.

"He certainly is a strapping young lad, Nabiki," Soun laughed.

"Uh, thanks?" Ranma said dubiously. He glanced over his shoulder, feeling light-headed, almost dizzy. His father was grinning, looking self-satisfied. His mother (mother! He still could not believe it) was smiling serenely. Alfred's expression was carefully neutral, but Ranma could tell that his friend and guardian was just as perturbed as he was. Alfred tilted his head slightly towards the front door, silently asking Ranma if he wished to leave. Ranma shook his head, turned back to Soun and his daughter and bowed politely. "I'm pleased to meet a friend of my father. I didn't know that anyone else practiced the Anything Goes style. I was very surprised when I saw that sign by your front gate."

Soun smiled widely at him. "Your father and I studied under the same master in our youth. Our own personal schools of Anything Goes have diverged somewhat, but are still quite complementary. I'll be more then happy to teach you some of my techniques in the coming days, Ranma. Now let me show you to the living room and formally introduce you to my daughters."

_Coming days?_ Thought Ranma. _It sounds like he expects me to stay here, or at least visit regularly. _He followed his hosts, feeling confused and strangely wary, as if he was being led into a trap. But the nature of the trap he could not even begin to perceive.

If Soun and Nabiki had been very pleased to meet him, the two other Tendo girls sitting at the low table seemed anything but. Kasumi, the eldest of the three, was a lovely young woman, dressed in a tastefully simple house dress, her long brown hair tied in a motherly plait and draped over her shoulder. She smiled briefly in welcome at Ranma, but her eyes were apprehensive, almost afraid, and she quickly looked down at her lap. The youngest, Akane, was wearing a red sleeveless dress with the word _Caribbean_ emblazoned across her chest in pink cursive letters. Her blue-black hair fell in a cascade almost to the small of her back, kept in order by a large blue ribbon. Ranma thought her the cutest of the three sisters – or at least would have been the cutest if not for the way she glared at him from the moment he came into sight. He swore he felt his pig-tail rise and stiffen in reaction to the palpable anger the young woman radiated. Ranma's patience began to fray from the strangeness of the various Tendos' reactions to his presence, but he easily kept it in check. If he could hold his temper when dealing with either the condescending upper-crust of Gotham society or the criminal monsters of the city's underworld (there were nights where Ranma was not certain which of the two was more evil), then he should be able to easily handle his father's strange friends.

Once introductions had been made and everyone was settled around the table, Kasumi offered refreshments, which Ranma and Alfred graciously accepted. When the glasses of fresh iced tea and slices of chilled watermelon were passed out Soun began to make small talk, asking Ranma about his flight, when Genma brusquely cut his friend off. "We should get straight to business, Tendo. We've waited long enough for this day." Soun nodded in agreement. Kasumi and Akane both looked away, the elder girl sadly, the younger angrily, while Nabiki leaned slightly across the table toward Ranma with a smile. Ranma and Alfred exchanged glances. Genma cleared his throat and straightened his gi jacket before beginning. "Son," he began portentously, "as Tendo mentioned he and I were both students under the same master. Those were arduous days, filled with trials and tribulations, but they shaped us into the fine men we are today." Alfred coughed softly into his fist and took a sip of his iced tea, throwing Soun an apologetic look. Ranma's lips quirked briefly. Genma frowned but persevered. "After many years of training, we both finally achieved our mastery, founded independent schools of Anything Goes Martial Arts and, uh, _encouraged_ our master to begin an enlightened, dignified retirement." Now Soun coughed and drank his own iced tea, while Genma looked decidedly shifty and uneasy. "In celebration of this momentous occasion, Tendo and I made a vow that one day we would unite our schools. With you finally returning to Japan, that day has finally come."

Ranma frowned thoughtfully while Alfred considered Genma, his keen eyes suspicious. "Okay," said Ranma. "Could you explain what you mean by 'unite our schools' and what exactly that has to do with me?"

"Simple, boy: you are to marry one of Tendo's daughters - the sooner the better."

Ranma blinked and shook his head, not certain he heard his father clearly. He noticed that Alfred's mouth had dropped open slightly and his eyes had gone wide; for the older man that was the equivalent of a hysterical fit. "What?" Ranma said, his voice flat and cold.

"You heard me – you're to marry one of the Tendo girls," said Genma.

"I'm certain my dojo's legacy will be in excellent hands," Soun added brightly. "And I'm proud to welcome you into the family. Now, which of my girls would you like to be engaged to?"

"Daddy, I would be _more_ than happy to fulfill your and Uncle Saotome's promise and accept this engagement," Nabiki chimed in.

Ranma blinked again, the feeling of disbelief he had been experiencing since being introduced to his mother intensifying. He looked slowly around the table. Nodoka was smiling, her eyes bright and dancing. His father and Soun bore full-fledged grins on their faces, and, if anything, Nabiki's grin was larger. Ranma had the distinct impression that she was not seeing him as a person, but rather as a winning lottery ticket. Kasumi stared at her hands as she wrung them, looking afraid and ashamed, while Akane glared at a wall, her fists bunched tightly in her lap, the tendons of her arms standing stark against her fair skin.

Ranma could not help himself – he laughed, a brief explosion of mirth. "I can't believe this," he muttered, shaking his head. Then all humor fled him, a mask of cold anger settling on his face as he glared at his father. "No, absolutely not. This has to be the _stupidest _thing you've ever tried to pull, and that's really saying something. I'm not marrying anyone on your say-so, pop. No way."

"Well said, Master Ranma," said Alfred. "I completely concur with your decision."

Reactions flashed around the table with lighting-speed. Kasumi looked up at him, relief dawning on her pretty face. Akane stared at him, her anger transforming into surprise, as if Ranma's refusal was the last thing she expected to hear. Nabiki's deflating expression was almost comical. Soun looked aghast and thunderstruck, while Nodoka simply frowned slightly.

Genma scowled furiously at his son, his face bright red with anger. "Now look here boy-"

"You forget yourself, Mr. Saotome," Alfred interrupted sternly. "You have no right to dictate Master Ranma's actions."

"I'm his father; I have ever right!"

"You are his father, yes. But not his guardian. You voluntarily surrendered that right six years ago in exchange for _considerable_ leniency and compensation." Alfred's eyes blazed at Genma, daring the man to contradict him. Genma glowered but did not rise to the challenge. Alfred turned to Soun, whose expression was that of a man watching his fondest dream crumble before him. "Mr. Tendo, I am sorry but Master Ranma cannot accede to this... agreement. As Mr. Wayne's confidant and representative, I can say with absolute authority that he is opposed to having his ward engaged at sixteen years of age. He will not countenance this arrangement."

"It doesn't matter if Wayne agrees or not," growled Genma. "He may be the boy's guardian, but Ranma's still a Saotome, and he's bound by family honor to unite the schools – not that I expect a _gaijin_ to understand such a thing."

Ranma slapped his hand hard on the table. "Do _not_ speak to Alfred like that," he shouted at his father. He took a deep breath to compose himself. "I said no. That's final. This is the second decade of the twenty-first century. Do you realize just how, how... " he fumbled for the right word. "_Archaic_... arranged marriages are?"

"The custom is still practiced here," muttered Soun with a petulance very unbecoming a man his age.

"I will concede that point," said Alfred. "But from my understanding it is now rare, and the participants are older adults seeking spouses, not minor children."

Ranma looked at Soun, giving the older man his most winning smile – it was impossible to be the ward of Bruce Wayne and not learn how to put on the charm. "Mr. Tendo, I want to apologize for my outburst. My father took me by surprise with this, but it was still rude of me." Alfred nodded approvingly. Ranma continued. "All of your daughters are quite beautiful, and I'm sure they all have wonderful personalities, but I'm not interested in getting married. I'm much too young! Besides, I don't know them, and I won't have the time to get to know them – I'm only staying in the country for a month, and can't extend that. I have too many responsibilities back in Gotham. I'm very uncomfortable with this, and I think your daughters feel the same way." He flashed his smile at the three Tendo girls; Nabiki seemed about to argue his point, but Kasumi was giving him a grateful look and Akane was returning his smile. It was small and a trifle hesitant, but he was amazed at how breathtakingly radiant it made her. Ranma had to struggle a moment to keep himself focused on the matter at hand.

"Ranma," said Nodoka. The coldness of her tone drew every eye to her. Her serene smile had vanished, replaced with a strange, calculating appraisal that made the fine hairs on the back of Ranma's neck prickle. "Ranma, I do not find this behavior very manly."

Ranma looked at her quizzically. "I don't understand what you mean, mom."

She ignored him, turning her cold gaze to her husband. "Genma..."

Genma paled, sweat springing up on his brow. "Now now, No-chan. Let's not be hasty," he said with a nervous laugh. "The boy just needs to be made aware of his responsibilities."

Ranma and Alfred stared at Genma, wondering what had frightened him, and noting the gleam of triumph alight in his eyes, very much at odds with his fear. "What's going on here?" Ranma demanded. Genma started to speak, but fell silent when his wife held up a hand.

"When your father first proposed to take you on an extended training trip I objected, _strenuously_," said Nodoka. "I had no desire to be separated from you for an extended period. But finally he persuaded me to let you go by making a promise – he swore on both of your honors that he would make you a man among men. At first I believed he succeeded, but your refusal to honor this important family obligation is making me doubt."

"I'm still not understanding you, mom," Ranma said slowly. Nodoka produced a folded piece of rice paper from her kimono and gravely handed it to him. He opened the document and began to read. The color vanished suddenly from his face as he dropped the paper. He looked at his mother, his eyes wild. "Seppuku!?"

"Seppuku?" exclaimed Alfred. "What's this about?" The Tendo girls all gasped, while their father looked dumbfounded. Genma was still pale, but his lips had turned up in a small, smug smile.

"Yes," said Nodoka, her voice sounding detached and clinical. "If I judge that your father had failed to keep his promise, you and he are to commit seppuku, and thus restore the Saotome family honor." Nodoka held up her bundle and unwrapped it, revealing a sheathed katana. "I will serve as your second, of course."

Alfred stared at this serene, lovely woman with disbelieving horror; he could see his expression mirrored by the young ladies. Soun seemed to be at war with himself, shifting back and forth between shock and elation. And Ranma... his poor boy seemed to have shut down completely, his face a pale blank. Ranma stared down at the paper. "I don't see my signature," he muttered. "Just hand prints."

"You hadn't learned to write at the time," said Genma. "I had to stain your palms with ink when you agreed to the contract." The elder Saotome seemed proud of his cleverness.

Ranma did not answer. Without a word he rose from the table and left the room, heading for the genkan. Alfred swiftly sprang to his feet. "Mr. Tendo, ladies, thank you very much for the hospitality of your house. Mr. and Mrs. Saotome-" He had to clamp down hard on his teeth to keep from swearing. The woman was looking at him with confused incomprehension, as if she could not at all understand the fury he showed openly. "Mr. and Mrs. Saotome, I'm certain that Mr Wayne will have many things to say to you in the near future. Good day, all." He firmly clamped his Panama on his head and followed after Ranma.

He found Ranma outside, leaning forward on the Benz, hands clamped on its roof, his shoulders heaving. The chauffeur was standing nearby, looking on with concern, a smoldering cigarette dangling from his hand. "We are returning to the penthouse directly," said Alfred. The chauffeur nodded crisply, dropping his cigarette and climbing into the Benz. Alfred looked at Ranma, trying to formulate a reassurance when Genma stormed through the Tendo gates.

"Ranma, you return to the house right _now!_" Genma shouted. "Listen to me, you ungrateful boy. You are going to fulfill your obligation and marry one of Tendo's girls or else-" He grabbed Ranma by the shoulder. The younger man turned in a blur, striking his father viciously across the jaw, sending him down hard to the street. Ranma loomed over him, fists clenched, his blue eyes bright with rage.

"Once again, Old Man," Ranma rasped. "Once again you've managed to completely _fuck up_ my life." Genma stared up at him stupidly, his mouth drunkenly agape.

Alfred laid a gentle hand on Ranma's shoulder. "Come, Master Ranma." Ranma allowed himself to be guided into the Benz backseat. Alfred gave Genma one last contemptuous glare before getting into the car and ordering the chauffeur to drive.


	4. Chapter 3

Shadows Over Nerima

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane.

* * *

Chapter 3

Once Ranma was ensconced in the shower, Alfred decided it was time to inform Bruce of the events of the afternoon. It was a little before four am in Gotham, so in all likelihood he was still awake. Alfred took one last sip of his Earl Gray before dialing the special line.

Bruce answered almost immediately. "Yes?"

"Are you engaged, sir?"

"No. It's been a quiet night. I'm reviewing some cold cases in the Batcave. How did the meeting with Saotome go?"

Alfred sighed wearily. "I'm afraid not very well, Master Bruce."

There was a moment of silence on the line. "Tell me." Alfred explained in detail the encounter at the Tendo estate. Once he finished Bruce remained quiet for a full ten seconds. "I will be in Tokyo as soon as possible." His voice was tightly controlled; Alfred could tell he was in the grasp of a towering rage. He did not admonish Bruce to remain calm – he fully related to and respected his anger.

"Very good, sir," Alfred said, leaning back into his chair.

"How is Ranma?"

"He has not spoken a word since we left the Tendos. He spent the past two hours exercising non-stop in the penthouse gymnasium. It seemed to do him little good. He's in the shower now, but I suspect he'll soon be going out in search of 'diversion'"

"No doubt," Bruce said with a sigh. "This will eat at him."

"I know. Reason and logic be damned, it's a matter of family honor, no matter how absurd, or what the circumstances. I saw the hand prints on that bloody contract – he could not have been more than three at the time. There is no way he could have possible understood it." Alfred's voice rose a little with indignation, but he quickly brought himself under control.

Bruce chuckled. "Swearing, Alfred?"

"I believe this situation warrants it. And don't forget, before I decided to decided to retire to a life of domestic servitude, I was in the SAS. I know curses that would shock even you, Master Bruce." Both men laughed softly. "Any instructions, sir?"

"No. I trust your judgment. I do recommend contacting Yoru-sensei. His student, Kairi, may also be of help. She and Ranma got along well, the last time we were in Japan."

"Very good, Master Bruce. We will see you soon."

"Yes." Bruce disconnected. Alfred sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt a longing for something stronger than Earl Gray, but ignored it. One of his strictest rules was never to drink before 8 pm, no matter what the provocation, and never more than one or two glasses. One had to be careful with alcohol – it could be an insidious thing. He opened his eyes and listened. He could not hear the shower. He waited three more minutes before getting up to check on Ranma.

As he expected, Alfred found Ranma in his bedroom, preparing to go out. He was already in his black and dark-blue kevlar body suit and had retied his pig-tail into a loose ponytail. He was currently booting up his gauntlet-portable operating system, synchronizing it with the special WayneTech DK satellite network and the Justice League's Overwatch system. Once finished he reached into his special suitcase and first retrieved his utility belt, snapping it around his waist, then his pair of Escrima sticks. He twirled them in his hands before locking them in the slot-hostlers located on the back of the shoulders of his suit. He let his head fall back slightly and took a deep breath through his nose.

"Master Ranma," said Alfred. Ranma started and turned. He had all ready donned his bat-shaped domino mask, his eyes concealed by white polarized lenses.

"Alfred," he said. He sounded flustered, almost panicked. "I, I gotta get out of here. I know it's early, but it's not like I never operate in daylight – I'm seen during the day with the Titans all the time. But I can't, can't breathe right now. I need to run, fly, _do something_. I-"

"Ranma," said Alfred. Ranma fell silent, surprised by Alfred dropping his formality. The butler walked up to the young man a placed a hand on his shoulder. "I understand, lad. Go. I'll be waiting up for you."

Ranma stared at him for a moment then gave him a tremulous smile. Impulsively, he hugged him. "Thank you, _ojiisan_," he whispered.

Alfred smiled. "You're welcome, my boy." He pulled away from the embrace, patting Ranma on the shoulders before stepping back. "I want you to be careful. I know I haven't said that to you for a long time, but right now you are very upset. I doubt you'll run to anything unusual – Tokyo is not Gotham – but just do this old man a favor and don't go rushing headlong into something without taking a few seconds to assess the situation."

Ranma nodded. "I will, Alfred. And I also promise to not to be out too late." Ranma turned to head out to his bedroom's terrace balcony, but hesitated a moment. "Alfred, if you speak to Bruce again, before I get a chance, could you tell him I think I need to talk to John?"

"Of course," said Alfred, feeling proud. In some ways Ranma was even more self-contained than Bruce – Alfred knew the effort it had cost the young man to ask that.

"Thanks." Ranma seemed much more relaxed now. He walked out onto the balcony, drawing his grapnel. Alfred waited until he heard the soft 'chuff' of a line being fired before leaving to prepare for his familiar vigil.

* * *

Hikaru Gosunkugi reeled back from a punch to his stomach, tripping over his feet and falling over. His clothes were dirty and torn. His left eye was swelling shut. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead. Breathing laboriously, he looked up at his three assailants as he tried to scuttle away. He guessed they were boys his age or a little older, due to the school uniforms they wore, shirtsleeves rolled up, and from the way they spoke. They concealed their identities with masks – kitsuni, tanuki and oni. The one in the oni mask stepped up to Gosunkugi and kicked him in the ribs. Gosunkugi gasped and curled up into himself. "All right," he gasped out. "All right, I'll give you my money."

The three boys sniggered evilly. "Like you got a choice, geek," said Oni-Mask before kicking Gosunkugi again. He cried out, rolling clumsily away.

"Damn you," he muttered. "Jerks. I'll curse you. A spirit of the underworld will come and punish you."

"Oooh, I'm so scared," mocked Kitsuni-Mask, shaking his hands in an exaggerated manner. "Look, I'm shaking. Good old Voodoo Spike – you're always good for a laugh."

Tanuki-Mask grunted. He did not seem amused. "You shouldn't make threats you can't back up, ya little shit. Let's see if you can nail those _wara ningyo _of yours with broken hands." Gosunkugi winced and tried to crawl away but suddenly froze. His good eye opened wide and his all ready pale face curdled white. Tanuki-Mask chuckled. "Yeah, you should be scared."

"Be-behind you!" cried Gosunkugi.

"Oh please! Can't you come up with something-"

"Boo." Tanuki-Mask started and whirled around. A pair of blank white eyes was the last thing he saw before a fist smashed his mask and hammered him into unconsciousness.

"Holy-!" shouted Kitsuni-Mask, the rest of his exclamation cut off by the spinning hook kick that sent him corkscrewing to the ground. More brave than smart, Oni-Mask shouted and charged the dark figure that had effortlessly beaten up his friends. His clumsy roundhouse punch was slapped aside with contemptuous ease; a forearm strike slammed into his jaw, knocking him out.

Gosunkugi stared wildly at his savior, a man dressed in a dark-blue and black form-fitting body suit, his black hair a wild mane tied in a ponytail, his face obscured by a vaguely bat-shaped domino mask. "Oh my God," Gosunkugi muttered. "I did it. I summoned a spirit of the underworld to wreck terrible vengeance on my enemies." The man snorted at this, then started to bind the three unconscious thugs with zip-ties pulled from one of the many pouches on his belt. Once done he tapped his right forearm. After a soft beep a professional sounding woman's voice spoke. "110 Emergency services."

"Reporting an assault at Shakujii Park, Nerima Ward. Three suspects, apprehended and restrained. One victim in need of medical attention for non-life threatening injuries." Before the operator could respond the man tapped his forearm again, cutting the call. He looked at Gosunkugi, and despite knowing he meant him no harm the young student could not help but shiver. "Police and EMTs should be here shortly."

"Uh, okay," stuttered Gosunkugi. "Um... thank you..."

The man grinned cockily and gave him a quick salute. "No problem. It's my duty to protect the weak." He walked away and vanished, seeming to melt into the growing dusk. Gosunkugi blinked and shook his head, wondering if he was suffering from a concussion-induced hallucination. He gingerly stood, taking stock of his injuries. He flinched when Oni-Mask groaned, then looked around furtively. An evil grin lit up on his sallow face. He walked over to his bound tormentor.

"How do you like it?" Gosunkugi shouted as he kicked Oni-Mask in the side. He kicked him a second time, reared back for a third but somehow missed, violently throwing himself up into to the air and landing hard on his back, cracking his head on the ground. "I... I think I'll just lay down for a while. ..." he muttered before passing out.

* * *

The sun had almost set, the last shreds of sunlight fading away as street lamps slowly buzzed to life. Ranma squatted on the roof of a house, arms resting on his knees as he gazed across the street at the Tendo estate. It was such a pleasant-looking home, obviously loved and well-cared for. He wondered if his father and mother was still there, before wondering if he cared and why he bothered even coming here. He sighed, bowing his head, his hands clenching into fists. When he had left the penthouse he had no destination in mind, being overwhelmed simply by the need to run, to traverse Tokyo by the unique ways taught to him by the Batman and banish the pain swirling in him through action. It had been a fairly eventful few hours – saving that boy back in Shakujii Park had been the third assault he had broken up during his run. He had also thwarted a jewelry store break-in, knocking out the two thieves with well-thrown batarangs, and had swooped down on his grapnel to keep a drunken salaryman from getting his fool self run over when he stumbled into traffic. Yet as he continued his impromptu patrol he found himself drifting towards Nerima and the Tendos. But now that he was here, he had no idea what he wanted to do – if there was anything he even _could_ do.

Ranma chuckled with little humor and shook his head. At least he had given the local news something to talk about; superheroes were rare outside of the United States, and the Batman's protege operating openly in Tokyo was going to attract attention from the media. He stood up and looked again at the Tendo home. A wave of misery washed over him, making his stomach churn. A dark pain throbbed in time with his heart. His patrol had done nothing to settle him down, the thrill of helping those in need quickly fading once the danger was past. "I have a mother," he muttered to himself. "And she's as nuts as Harley Quinn." He suddenly shuddered violently and turned away, started to run, leaping from roof to roof as he fled, only stopping when the Tendo house was out of sight. He ended up on the top of a small tenement, sitting by the edge, legs dangling off the side as he stared out over the cityscape, lights twinkling in the moonless dusk.

It had felt good, learning his mother was alive and well. She seemed so beautiful, gray eyes gazing upon him with warm, maternal love. For a brief time he had felt something within him become whole, a wound in his soul he had not even been aware of healing. But then she produced that damn contract and the warmth of her love became cold ashes, and his father's smug, triumphant grin was like salt rubbed into reopened wounds. Ranma punched down on the roof, the steel knuckle-studs of his gauntlet clanging loudly on the concrete. _Goddamn it, this shouldn't hurt. I didn't even know she was alive._ _Why does this matter to me? _In a strange, ugly way, he found himself envying Bruce, and hated himself for it. His guardian's parents were dead, and while Bruce still mourned them, he had no doubt that they had loved him completely, without reservation. Both of Ranma's parents were alive, but his father saw him as only a means to an end, a tool for Genma's own benefit and glory, while his mother...

_She wants me to kill myself, if I'm not manly – whatever the hell that means. I don't think I want to know._ He punched the roof again and sat motionless, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

A few minutes later he stirred, standing up with a scowl. "To hell with it," he muttered. "I'll deal. I always do."

An angry scream shattered the quiet of the evening, pulling Ranma out of his depression and galvanizing him into action. He ran in the direction of the scream, leaping from the tenement roof, firing his grapnel to break his fall. A feminine voice shrill with outrage shouted: "_Leave me alone, you perverts!_" Ranma landed on the roof of a small convenience store and quickly assessed the scene. A fight was raging in the street below – nearly twenty men were swarming around a young woman, attacking her. She was fighting back, and fighting well, dodging their attacks with graceful ease, lashing out with punches and kicks that sent her assailants flying.

Ranma recognized the woman – she was the youngest Tendo daughter, Akane. "She's good," he muttered, feeling honest awe as he watched her fight for a few more seconds, whittling down the odds against her with every strike. A cocky grin lit up his face and he dove down into the brawl to assist her.


	5. Chapter 4

Shadows Over Nerima

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.

* * *

Chapter 4

Akane Tendo stared moodily out the open engawa doors, looking at the backyard's well-tended koi pond, her mouth tight with a pensive frown. Despite their guests having left hours ago the atmosphere of the house was still tense with anger and disappointment. Soun and Nabiki had both retreated to their bedrooms to sulk over their thwarted expectations while Kasumi was keeping herself occupied with busy work. As for Akane, her decidedly mixed feelings for the events of the day left her feeling restless. She shivered despite the warmth of the fading afternoon, rubbing her bare arms. With a deep sigh she sought out Kasumi in the kitchen.

"Sis? I'm going to take a walk."

Kasumi wiped her hands dry and turned from the sink. "It's getting a little late, dear."

"I know, but I really need to get out of the house for a while. There's still an hour of sunlight; I won't be long."

"Very well. Just be careful, Akane."

"I'm only walking a few blocks, Kasumi. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Considering the events of today, I don't want to contemplate the possibilities." Kasumi sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm becoming something of a worrywart."

Akane smiled affectionately. "It's okay." She hesitated a moment. "Kasumi, do you think daddy will still insist on the engagement?"

Kasumi frowned unhappily. "I hope not, but I'm afraid he will. It's his fondest wish."

Akane bristled. "He doesn't need a _boy _to carry on the dojo." She sighed and relaxed a little. "Besides, it's not right, the way Ranma's parents are going to try to get him to agree to this. It feels like – heck, it _is_ blackmail," she finished quietly.

"I can't disagree," said Kasumi. She smiled softly. "Are you actually feeling sorry for a boy?" she teased gently.

Akane sniffed and looked away, but when she answered her voice was soft. "He didn't seem _that_ bad, and it's obvious he doesn't want this any more than you or I do. I can't imagine what he's feeling right now." She sighed again, shook her head and smiled sadly at Kasumi. "I'll be back soon.'

"Enjoy your walk, Akane."

* * *

Akane wandered her neighborhood aimlessly, deeply contemplating the last two days. She had been furious when her father announced the engagement – with all the trouble she was having at school, she had so little control over her life as things stood. Soun making such an important decision for her and her sisters felt like a further insult to her badly injured pride.

Even worse, in Akane's opinion, was how frightened and upset the whole situation made Kasumi. Father was under the assumption that, once engaged, Ranma would stay in Japan permanently, ignoring his eldest daughter's observation that Ranma's guardian, in all likelihood, would want him to return and remain in the United States. Despite Nabiki's eagerness to fulfill the obligation (yen signs flashed in her eyes when she learned Ranma was the ward of one of the richest men in America), Soun insisted that Ranma would be free to choose which of the Tendo girls he would marry. Kasumi was terrified she would be taken away from her home and forced to live in a foreign country, and the thought of having one of her sisters moving seven-thousand miles away was equally unappealing.

_Doesn't daddy care about how we feel? _thought Akane. _Are we just objects, to be used as he sees fit, with no consideration? Bad enough all the boys at school think that way, but my own father..._ She sighed quietly. _Oh well. I suppose it could be worse for us._ Her thoughts turned to Ranma Saotome, sympathy for the young man welling within her. She felt deeply ashamed for hating him before even seeing him. Because he was a boy she had assumed he would be more than eager for the engagement, not imagining he could think the situation equally as objectionable as she and Kasumi did. It was obvious his father had blindsided him with the marriage agreement, not even giving him the day's grace her own father had. Ranma's refusal, with the full support of his chaperone Alfred, had given Akane a glimmer of hope, and when he smiled at her, she found herself smiling back. She could not remember the last time she had smiled at a boy her own age.

Then Nodoka Saotome – _his own mother_ – revealed that horrible contract. How could any person demand such a thing from their child, to commit seppuku if he could not achieve some ill-defined ideal. Akane shuddered at the thought, the memory of how Ranma looked as he left the house, a bloodless expression of pain and disbelief, tearing at her heart. She sincerely hoped that he would be all right.

Akane sighed thoughtfully as she looked around. She had walked longer than she had meant to. The sun had almost set and the street lights were turning on. She got her bearings, realizing she was only a few blocks away from Mr. Oda's convenience store, and decided to grab some Pocky and a soda before going home, hoping a snack would help cheer her up.

She was a block away from the store when she heard a loud noise, followed by a shushing sound, issue from an alleyway to her left. She stopped and stared hard into it. "Who's there?" she demanded, apprehension knotting her stomach. Anyone skulking in an alley in Nerima at twilight could not possibly be up to any good. "Come out so I can see you."

Two boys burst from the alley and rushed toward her. One held out a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a gymnastics club in the other, while the second brandished a baseball bat. "Akane, I love you!" the boy with the flowers shouted. "Let me beat you so we can date!"

Akane stared at them in horror, frozen for a moment. _No!_ She silently wailed. _Isn't it enough they give me no peace at school? Why!? _Incandescent anger exploded within her, burning away her paralysis. With an earsplitting shriek of outrage she charged the two boys, sending the one with the flowers sprawling with a palm strike, then tearing the baseball bat from the hands of the other and clobbering him with it. More boys began to swarm out of hiding, crying out their deluded declarations of love. Akane hurled the bat at the largest knot of them and kicked out of her flip-flops for better traction. "Leave me alone, you perverts!" she screamed.

She fought them off as best she could, lashing out with ferocious punches while frantically parrying and dodging. While far and away a superior fighter, her mobility was hampered, the skirt of her red dress too restricting. He plight slowly grew more desperate; she had nearly been tagged three times – usually only Kuno ever came remotely close to hitting her. Cold fear clutched at her and she prayed that an opportunity to run would present itself.

Suddenly someone came diving off the roof of the convenience store, tackling one of Akane's assailants and sending him crashing face down to the pavement. This person flipped off the downed boy, somersaulting between two surprised attackers and simultaneously punching them both in the head. The stranger landed in a graceful crouch and the next instant sprang deeper into the fray, knocking out three more attackers before they were even aware of the new threat and taking pressure off of Akane.

Akane did not recognize the stranger, did not even get a clear look at him, only catching a glimpse of blurring blue and black. She did not care, was just grateful for the unexpected but most welcome reprieve. She redoubled her attacks, cutting through her aggressive suitors like a buzz-saw. She caught movement in her peripheral vision, turned and lashed out with a punch, only to have her fist caught effortlessly in a black-gloved hand. She let out a surprised gasp as she stared into a face obscured by a bat-shaped domino mask.

"Uh uh," said the stranger, wagging an admonishing finger with his free hand, smiling roguishly. "I'm on your side." He released her. "Watch your back." He struck behind himself with a back thrust kick, folding an attacker trying to catch him unaware in half, following with a knee-lift to the nose that knocked the boy out. Akane spun in time to catch a punch. She threw her opponent on his back and hit him hard in the stomach.

And with that the fight was finished. Over twenty of Akane's schoolmates lay strewn unconscious on the street. She glared wildly all around, her chest heaving with heavy gasps, face flushed with exertion and outrage. Her gaze fell upon the stranger who had helped her, getting a good look at him for the first time. He was surveying the carnage of the fight, mouth quirked by a satisfied smirk. Lean and muscular, he was dressed in a form-fitting black bodysuit, high-lighted by lines of dark-blue, with a black, multi-pouch belt clinched around his waist. His hair was dark, tousled wildly and bound in a long pony-tail. A pair of Escrima sticks jutted skyward from slot-hostlers set on the shoulders of his suit. The color of his eyes were concealed by the white lenses of his domino mask. He noticed her staring at him and grinned. "Good scrap," he said, his voice a low-pitched rumble. "The nightlife in Nerima always this rowdy?"

"Not usually," Akane said faintly. A feeling of recognition ticked the back of her thoughts, but she could not place this man. _You'd think someone dressed so unusually would be easy to remember_, she thought. "Um... please, who are you?"

Without warning the stranger leaped at her. Akane gasped and went on guard, but realized a split-second later he was not attacking when he snatched something aimed at her out of the air. "What the hell?" he muttered. He clutched in his hand a red rose.

"You cur!" a haughty voice cried from up the street. "How dare you sully a token intended for Akane Tendo with your base hand."

Akane glared angrily at the older boy strolling towards them. Tatewaki Kuno was dressed in his dark-blue kendoist's uniform, his bokken resting on his shoulder and a sharp frown on his aristocratically handsome face. Akane stamped her bare foot on the pavement. "Kuno! What are you doing?" She clenched her hands tight to keep them from shaking. "I'm sick of having to deal with you at school. Can't I even take a walk without you perverts trying to molest me?" Akane pressed her lips tight, willing herself not to cry from the poisonous despair distending her stomach, twisting around her heart like a serpent scaled with thorns. Her first term of high school had been nightmare enough with the constant fighting she had been forced to endure; she did not know what she would do if she could not step outside her house without risking the attention of Kuno and the fools that followed his example. Would they attack the dojo next? Despite her desperate desire her lips began to quiver and she felt tears prickle against her eyelashes.

Kuno looked pass the stranger, ignoring him, and smiled, his expression gently cruel. "Ah, Akane Tendo. Your naivety is as refreshing as your beauty and energy. Do you not know that love knows no bounds, does not acknowledge time? The joyous feelings you invoke compels me to seek you out wherever you are, no matter the hour. I see you feel the same. You tremble with passion!" He brought his bokken to the ready. "Come, my love. These boors have been dealt with. Let us fight. If I win, you will be mine. If you win, I will allow you to date with me." Akane gritted her teeth and slowly, reluctantly brought her self into guard.

The stranger stepped in front of her, interposing himself between her and Kuno. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Hie yourself from here," snapped Kuno. "You've meddled enough. Do not interfere in the courting of your betters."

"Go away," said Akane, though with little heat. "This isn't any of your business; I can fight my own battles."

"I'm making this my business," said the stranger. "It's a bad habit of mine, sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. Probably will get myself killed doing that, one of these days." He smiled jauntily at Akane, but then grew more serious. "And I can tell you can fight for yourself. I'd be blind not to see you're skilled. But I can also see this is one battle you're not eager to have. What does stick-boy here mean by courting?"

Akane glowered at him. She felt annoyed and harassed beyond measure, but above all she was incredibly tired. She ducked her head as she felt tears well in her eyes again. The stranger's tone was kind, and he was looking at her with obvious concern. "A little after I started high school this year, Kuno announced to the whole school that the only way someone could ask me out on a date was to beat me in a fight."

The stranger stared at her for a long moment, incredulous. He looked at the unconscious young men scattered around, then at the fuming Kuno, and then returned his attention to her. "You're kidding me."

"I wish," she said bitterly. "Every morning I have to fight my way through two-dozen or more perverted jerks, just to get to class. And now-" Her voice cracked. She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of a hand, angry and mortified at displaying such weakness to Kuno and this stranger. "And now it seems they're going to attack me outside of school as well."

The stranger said nothing for a moment, rolling the rose between his fingers as his expression slowly grew furious. He dropped the flower, crushed it beneath his heel, and whirled to face Kuno as the kendoist sputtered. "Well, I now know who I'm voting for to be 'Asshole of the Year'. You win hands down, and considering some of the bastards I deal with that's really saying something."

Kuno sneered. "I would not expect a vulgar wretch who cowardly hides behind a mask to understand the actions of the noble. Akane Tendo is the epitome of feminine strength and beauty. Only the strongest of men is worth of the love of such a fierce tigress. For her to accept anything less is a blasphemy I will not allow."

The stranger nodded thoughtfully and looked at Akane. "So, he asked you out, you said no, and he, being a stupid and vindictive idiot, decided to make your life miserable and somehow convinced this lot of low-grade morons to help him. Did I translate that right?" Akane started and gave a small nod, smiling despite herself at his interpretation of Kuno's motivation.

"How dare you?" shouted Kuno. "You masked dog, who are you to cast aspersions on my actions and character?" The stranger began to speak, but Kuno cut him off. "But wait! It is only fitting that I introduce myself first. I am the rising star of the Kendo world and the paragon of masculine virtue for my generation. My many admirers call me the Blue Thunder of Furiken High!" He raided his bokken one handed above his head. "I am Tatewaki Kuno, age seventeen."

The stranger stared at him. "Is this guy for real?" he asked Akane. At her nod he shook his head, smiling slightly as if amused. "At least he didn't call himself Hachiman or Susano-o – that would be just my speed, running into the local edition of Maxie Zeus." He took a few steps forward, walking with a deliberately arrogant strut. He drew his Escrima sticks, spinning them in his hands and throwing them high in the air. He casually brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders, caught the sticks on the drop and gave Kuno a slight, mocking bow. "You can call me Nightwing."

Akane gasped, her eyes going wide. She now understood why she recognized the stranger. "Nightwing?" she squeaked out. "As in Batman and Nightwing?"

"Yup. The one and only."

"Oh my God," whispered Akane.

"Nightwing," muttered Kuno. He obviously did not recognize the name. "A dubious name for a dubious individual. Tell me... 'Nightwing', what are your intentions toward the beauteous Akane Tendo?"

"Intentions?" Nightwing looked over his shoulder at Akane and flashed her a lopsided grin. She blinked and suddenly found herself blushing hotly. He looked back at Kuno. "Well, she _is_ really cute. I figure after I beat the hell out of you, I'll ask if she'll have a cup of coffee with me. It's a bit too soon for dinner and a movie – I've been hurt in the past, so I like to take things slow."

"Never!" roared Kuno. "Lecherous fiend, I will never allow it!"

"Oh, you are a dumbass!" Nightwing threw an Escrima stick. The weapon struck Kuno square between the eyes and ricocheted back to Nightwing, who caught it deftly. The kendoist's head sanpped back and he staggered, but quickly recovered.

"Coward!" he gritted out. "By striking me from a distance you reveal your true colors."

"Says the guy who sics a horde of thugs on one lone girl," Nightwing retorted.

"Silence! I will smite you down!" Kuno charged, bokken raised high, closing the distance between himself and Nightwing in a second. Nightwing spun out of the way of his downward strike, getting behind Kuno and hammering a trail with his Escrima sticks from the base of his neck down to the tail of his spine. Kuno stumbled but did not fall. "You- you weakling! I didn't even feel that." His fish-pale face, slick with sweat, belied is claim. He slashed backwards with his bokken. Nightwing ducked beneath it, leaning back and reverse-somersaulting away. Kuno pivoted and charged again. "The purity of my love gives me the strength of ten! Strike strike strike strike _**STRIKE**__!_" He launched a barrage of thrusts, his bokken blurring from the speed and fury of his attack. Nightwing dodged it entirely, dancing between the blows. Akane gaped in awe at the effortless grace of his defense. Suddenly he dropped to the ground, planting down on his fist and kicking Kuno in the pit of his stomach, breaking his offense and forcing him back. Nightwing spun back up to a vertical base, cocking his head slightly and grinning at Kuno.

"Not bad," he said. "You actually made me sweat. My turn now." He rushed Kuno, his Escrima sticks a black, flashing flurry that Akane could barely follow. Kuno's body popped and jerked to the rhythm of the blows raining on him. Nightwing finished by rearing back and slamming the points of both sticks into Kuno's stomach.

The kendoist doubled over and fell on his rear. He glared up at Nightwing with bulging eyes. "That... that didn't hurt, you know," he gasped out before slumping unconscious.

Akane stared at Nightwing, amazed by his prowess. She had never seen someone so fast before, and he was barely even breathing hard. Nightwing looked down at Kuno for a moment then shrugged. "The geek's tougher than he looks." He clashed his Escrima sticks together, spun them in his hands and holstered them. He glanced up at Akane. "Shall we call the police?"

Akane shook her head to clear it and scowled. "What for?"

Nightwing pursed his lips, looking confused. "Um... you know, to drag these idiots off to jail? They did commit assault and battery on you. That _is_ a crime in Japan, right?"

Akane laughed bitterly. "Why bother? They'll get released in an hour at most." Seeing the questioning tilt of Nightwing's head, she explained. "Kuno's family is rich and has deep ties with the ward's government. There's not a policeman or politician in Nerima who won't look the other way, no matter what Kuno does, and Kuno extends that protection to anyone who tries to beat me in a fight." She wrapped her arms around herself, shutting her eyes tight, feeling helpless and weak and hating it.

Nightwing said nothing, his expression becoming coldly angry. "I guess we'll have to come up with our own punishment, then." Akane opened her eyes and watched him curiously as he hauled Kuno up by the collar of his gi, lifting him as if he weighed as much as a rag doll. "Come on." She followed him as he walked to a lamp post. He dumped Kuno at its base and started to pay out from his belt a length of thin black cable. In less than a minute Nightwing had Kuno hanging upside down by the ankles, suspended five feet above the sidewalk. Nightwing then produced a small cylinder and offered it to Akane. "Care to make an editorial comment?"

"What is it?" asked Akane.

"Spray paint."

She looked at him quizzically. "Why do you have spray paint?"

Nightwing shrugged. "Be prepared. Boy Scouts of America motto. You never know what will come in handy."

A small smile played on Akane's lips. "And just how prepared are you?"

Nightwing grinned. "I've got shark repellant."

Akane could not help herself. She giggled, honest and healthy laughter bubbling forth from her, purging the bleak hopelessness that was poisoning her just a minute ago. She laughed even harder at the look of mock indignation Nightwing assumed. "What?" he protested. "Sharks are sneaky! You never know when one may attack."

"Whatever," she laughed. "Give me that." She snatched the spray can, shook it, and wrote '_Stupid pervert. Leave me alone!'_ on Kuno's chest. She handed the paint back to Nightwing and bowed deeply. "Thank you very much for helping me." She smiled widely at him. "I really appreciate it."

"Eh, no problem. All part of my job description." Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Akane thought she could see a slight blush on his cheeks. "So. Miss Tendo, right? Do you live nearby? I'll escort you home, if you want."

"I do, and thank you, but no. I'll be all right from here."

Nightwing nodded with a smile. "Okay." He bowed to Akane and gave her a sharp two-fingered salute."Well, Miss Tendo, while I wish the circumstances had been better, it's been a pleasure to meet you. Take care." He stepped back into a shadow and vanished.

Akane stared for a minute. "Wow," she whispered. She could hardly believe this had happened. Walking in a pleasant daze, she searched for her flip-flops, put them on, and started for home. For the first time since she started high school back in April, she felt happy. Maybe there was hope, after all.

* * *

From a nearby rooftop Ranma watched Akane walk away, his gaze admiring. "Damn, she's hot," he muttered. He was not a perpetual horndog like Roy, but he was in no way oblivious to Akane's physical charms, and the fact she fought like an Amazon made her even more attractive in his estimation. He had no doubt she could have defeated all of her attackers without his aid. Ranma reached for his grapnel, planning on following her, just to make sure no one else bothered her. Definitely not because she had legs better than Donna's and a heart-stopping smile. He was being completely professional here.

Ranma suddenly glared across the street. Someone was lurking on the building opposite. He fired his grapnel and flew across, drawing an Escrima stick. He landed and started to search, prowling methodically, stretching out with all of his senses. He found no one.

He frowned sharply as he holstered his weapon. Bruce had taught him to trust his instincts, so he did not dismiss the incident as imagination. Someone had been watching from here, and was good enough to evade him swiftly and without leaving even a trace of a trail. Had the spy been watching him, or Akane? He was the obvious target, but there was no way he could have been followed for hours without noticing well before now. Of course, the spy could have only now found him. But, on the chance he was not the target, then why Akane? Some minion of Kuno, possibly? That made sense, considering the fool's obsession.

Ranma looked down the street and scowled. Akane was out of sight. He started after her, wanting to make sure she was safe. It was possible this was meant to distract him while someone else made a run at her. Once she was home, he would canvass the neighborhood quickly before returning to the penthouse. With some luck, maybe he would smoke out a clue and start piecing together what was going on.


	6. Chapter 5

Shadows Over Nerima

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.

* * *

Chapter 5

Ranma walked into the penthouse living room, still clad in his bodysuit but divested of his utility belt, Escrima sticks and mask. Alfred bookmarked his leather-bound collection of P.G. Wodehouse (a gift from Thomas and Martha Wayne and long a cherished source of amusement and inspiration) and gave his charge his full attention. "How was your patrol, Master Ranma?"

Ranma dropped into a plush chair and chuckled. "Interesting," he said with a crooked smile. "Tokyo may not be Gotham, but it has some unique features of its own." His expression grew serious. "I'm going to break out the Nightcycle early tomorrow morning and drive over to Nerima. There's something I want to check out."

Alfred looked at him with concern. "Nerima? Whatever for?"

Ranma shrugged and looked down at his lap. "I went there tonight. Hadn't intended to, but I found myself drifting that way, so I decided 'what the hell'. I think I had half a mind to confront the Old Man, maybe beat the hell out of him, but when I arrived at the Tendos, I just didn't have the will." He sighed deeply. "Wasn't worth the trouble it would cause, and he wouldn't learn from the experience anyway. If Bruce couldn't scare him straight, there's no way I ever could." He shook his head, resigned to his father's foolishness, and looked up at Alfred. "I was about to head back here when I ran into the youngest Tendo daughter. That's where things started getting interesting." He described the encounter to Alfred, enjoying the incredulous look growing on the older man's face.

"And she's been dealing with this harassment since April?" said Alfred. "My word. I was under the impression that Neanderthal man was extinct, but he seems to be thriving in Nerima. Miss Tendo is a remarkable young woman, to fight and win against such odds every day."

Ranma nodded with an admiring smile. "She's definitely a tough little tomboy, but it's starting to get to her. Those fools are increasing the pressure. She looked ready to cry when Kuno showed up." His smile transformed into a scowl. "No one is willing or able to help her, if what she told me is accurate. That changes now. I plan on putting the fear of God – or at least the fear of the Bat – into that bunch of morons. But the funniest thing about this mess was the lurker. He was pretty good. Got away from me clean, and I spent some time looking after I made sure Akane got home safely."

"Most likely he was a spy set on Miss Tendo by this Kuno. It would explain how he set up the ambush on short notice."

"I thought so too, at first. But now I'm not sure. I checked on the scene of the fight twice – once after Akane was safe and again before I headed for the penthouse. Kuno was still hanging from the streetlamp both times. You'd think someone in his employ would have gotten him down as soon as possible." Ranma laughed. "I did find out that Kuno's not well loved by the locals – some people added to the comments Akane painted on him."

Alfred chuckled. "No doubt they are well deserved. Who is this spy's target, then – you or Miss Tendo?"

"Right now I'm thinking Akane. He's good enough to evade me, but not watch me unnoticed when I'm not distracted. I wasn't followed traveling to Nerima, and no one tried picking up my trail when I left. As for why someone would be watching her, I haven't a clue. Granted, she's a phenomenal martial artist – that would be enough to attract attention. Yet..." Ranma trailed off and shrugged. "What's that line from Sherlock Holmes Bruce likes to quote? 'You can't make bricks without clay'? I don't have any clay, not even a speck. Maybe I'll find some tomorrow."

"Very good, Master Ranma. I wish you the best of luck. Speaking of Master Bruce, he'll be flying in this Friday. He wishes to discuss the events of today with your parents and Mr. Tendo."

Ranma's expression became closed. "I don't think there's much he can do about that," he muttered.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Time will tell, and as we both well know, there is very little Master Bruce can't accomplish when he sets his mind to a task."

Ranma nodded slowly, but a small, doubtful frown creased his mouth. His stomach chose the next moment to grumble noisily. Alfred arched an eyebrow as Ranma winced in embarrassment. "I haven't eaten since breakfast," he said, getting up. "I'll make myself a snack. Why don't you go to bed."

Alfred shook his head and stood. "Nonsense, sir. You go clean up. I'll prepare you a light late dinner."

Ranma looked stricken. "Alfred! This is suppose to be a vacation for you."

Alfred smiled fondly at his charge. "Vacations are highly over-rated, at least in my experience. I don't mind in the least, Master Ranma. It's a privilege to serve."

Ranma stared at the older man for a long moment before laughing. "You're the best, Alfred." He bowed deeply. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Fifteen minutes, my lad."

"Okay." Alfred headed for the kitchen while Ranma went to strip out of his bodysuit and quickly shower.

* * *

Akane sat at the table, head bowed as she pushed her rice around with her chopsticks, futilely willing for time to slow down. She kept telling herself that tomorrow was Friday and she would be free for the weekend. After that there was only one more week before the summer break began and she would not have to deal with the perverts of Furinkan High for several weeks.

_Of course, after the fight last night I'll probably be lucky if I can walk in the back yard without getting attacked,_ she thought sourly. She pushed her bowl away, the thought of food completely unappetizing. She looked around the table. Soun was ensconced behind his newspaper while Nabiki finished her coffee as the morning newscast on the television came to a close.

"Finally," said the anchorman, "On the unusual side of the news, there were several sightings last night of the American superhero Nightwing." The two Tendo girls watched, the younger far more intently than the older, as shaky phone camera footage of a dark figure flying through the air, swinging over the streets of Tokyo on a cable, played. "While the Tokyo Metropolitan Police has not made an official statement, several witnesses have reported Nightwing being responsible for preventing several crimes, and for saving the life of an intoxicated man." New footage, cleaner than the previous, showed Nightwing swinging through a busy street, grabbing the collar of a disheveled salaryman and carrying him to the sidewalk, saving him from being struck by a speeding car.

The anchorman continued his report. "Nightwing is the junior partner of the mysterious Batman and is co-leader, along with the superheroine Wonder Girl, of the superhero team known as the Teen Titans, best known recently for thwarting an attack by the international criminal organization HIVE on the United Nations building in New York late last year." Professional news footage rolled, showing Nightwing battling several men wearing futuristic yellow and black armor. In the background a young woman in a red, gold and black costume was flying through the air, fighting against armored men wearing jetpacks. Other HIVE soldiers tried flanking Nightwing, but were intercepted by a young man wearing a red and black bodysuit wielding a long bow. The man's arm blurred as he released a barrage of arrows at the soldiers. The footage ended with a yellow and red streak flashing by in the foreground.

"Wow," said Nabiki as she shut off the television. "I wonder what someone like that is doing in Tokyo?" Soun grunted behind his newspaper. Akane looked down in her lap, assuming an innocent expression. She had not told her family of the fight last night, or of who had helped her out.

"Nabiki, Akane, you should think about leaving," Kasumi called from the kitchen. "I have your bentos ready." Nabiki stood gracefully, while Akane rose with far less enthusiasm. In the hallway Kasumi handed her younger sisters their lunches and hugged them goodbye. "Hang in there, dear," she whispered to Akane. Akane smiled helplessly and followed Nabiki out the front door.

Kasumi sighed as she returned to the living room and sat next to Soun. "I'm very worried for Akane, father," she said. "She's badly depressed. Is there nothing you can do?"

Soun sighed himself. "I've tried, Kasumi dear. But the school administration refuses to acknowledge there is a problem. The police make excuses not to investigate and no one on the Town Council will even speak to me on the subject."

Kasumi frowned unhappily, touching her forehead. "Then we must consider transferring Akane to another school, so to get her away from that horrible Kuno boy. This is intolerable."

Soun grunted. "I still say Akane wouldn't be having this problem if she behaved appropriately for a girl her age." Kasumi stared at her father, lips pursed tightly in an angry line. She opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it, instead rising to clear the table. Soun shifted uneasily from the weight of Kasumi's disapproving silence and got up to smoke on the engawa.

Soun was on his second cigarette when Kasumi stiffly approached carrying the phone. "Someone wishes to speak with you, father."

Soun thanked his daughter and took the phone. "Yes?"

"Mr. Tendo?" The voice was a cold, deep baritone speaking Japanese with a light accent. Soun frowned at the hint of hostility in the voice but answered yes. "This is Bruce Wayne." Soun's eyebrows shot up. "I understand that you have a certain agreement with Genma Saotome involving my ward. Am I correct?"

"Yes," Soun answered. He suddenly felt unaccountably nervous.

"I wish to discuss this with both you and Saotome. I'll be flying into Tokyo Friday. Would a meeting Saturday afternoon at, say, two o'clock, be convenient?" The suggestion was a veiled command."

"Of... of course, Mr. Wayne! My family and I will be more than happy to receive you."

"Thank you. I'll see you then. Have a good day, Mr. Tendo." Wayne disconnected.

Soun stared at the buzzing phone in his hand. He swallowed, feeling faint as the reality of just who Ranma Saotome's guardian was finally registered. One of the wealthiest men in the world was coming to visit, and he was not happy. "Oh my," muttered Soun.

* * *

Akane tarried on the way to school, allowing Nabiki to go ahead alone. Akane walked slowly, head bowed, her knuckles white from the tightness of her grip on her book bag. _Just get through today,_ she silently chanted. _Just get through today._ She swallowed through a too-tight throat. The hope she had felt last night was dead, replaced by resurgent despair. The help she received was a one-time miracle, and she could expect no further aid. In a strange way, Nightwing's interference had been just as cruel as Kuno's announcement – for a brief moment, it had made Akane thing that maybe she was not alone, but it just made the truth that no one could or would help her hurt even more.

She paused a moment before Dr. Tofu's clinic, longing to go in and take comfort in her older friend's presence. Maybe he would let her stay for the day – he was well aware of her plight, and had tried to use his influence and good reputation in the ward to get the boys to leave her alone, but without success. What harm was there in skipping one day of school? She frowned and shook her head sharply as her pride asserted itself. She refused to hide from her troubles, to show weakness to those who would take advantage of her. She continued to Furinkan High, gritting her teeth as she quickened her pace and rallied her determination. She would not allow Kuno to break her spirit. When the school came into sight she broke into a run.

Cries rang out as Akane burst through the school gates. Over thirty boys charged her, shouting out their love and demands she date them. Akane faltered a moment when she saw that at least ten of her attackers were boys she had fought last night, bruised and battered yet still eager. _What's it going to take to get them to stop?_ She snarled and charged forward. "Get out of my way, you perverts! You're going to make me late!"

Something came spinning past Akane, hitting a boy on the brow and knocking him down. The object rebounded and struck a second boy in the back of the skull, sending him sprawling face first, then bounced again and smacked a third attacker in the mouth before arcing high through the air back toward the gate. Everyone in the school courtyard froze in surprise. Akane watched the flight of the weapon, her mouth parting slightly when she realized it was an Escrima stick. It tumbled down toward the wall enclosing the courtyard and was caught by the masked man dressed in black and blue standing on the wall coping to the left of the gate. Akane covered her mouth with a hand as a brilliant smile lit up her face. "You!" she called out, pointing at the man.

Nightwing grinned as he jumped off the wall, somersaulting to the ground. He strode up to Akane, tossing his stick back and forth between his hands. "Good morning, Miss Tendo," he said pleasantly. "Nice to see you again."

"What are you doing here?" she asked with delighted surprise.

Nightwing holstered his Escrima stick. "I remembered you told me you have to fight your way to class every morning. I wanted to see it for myself." He looked at the young men gathered before Akane and himself without favor. "I've known a lot of dumbasses in my time, but these guys take the prize."

The boys who had fought last night paled and cringed back. "Oh my God, he's real!" one of them shouted. The other suitors stared at Nightwing with varying degrees of wariness and disbelief. Along the sides of the courtyard and at the front windows of the school the students not involved with the daily brawl whispered amongst themselves. Several were taking pictures with their cell phones.

"I seem to have made an impression," said Nightwing.

"From what I've heard about you, you tend to do that," said Akane faintly.

Nightwing smiled at her with amused warmth. Akane blinked and felt her heart flutter slightly. "Anyway," continued Nightwing, "I thought I 'd help you out by, uh, _reasoning_ with these guys. Convince them it's in their best interest to leave you alone."

Akane bristled a little at that. "Hey! I don't need you to fight for me! I can protect myself."

"Calm down. I'm not doubting your abilities. I know you're a good fighter. I saw that for myself. But you've been beating on these morons since April and they've still not gotten the message. I think your problem, Miss Tendo, is that you're too damn nice." Akane felt confused at that, wondering how knocking guys out every morning could possible be construed as too _nice._ Nightwing looked at Akane's suitors, all the warmth vanishing from his face, his smile becoming as cold as a knife's blade. "I'm not nice. When I'm in a bad mood, I'm the nastiest sonovabitch you'll meet this side of the Batman, and looking at this lot is pissing me off something fierce." He took a few steps forward, cricking his neck and loosening his shoulders. "Listen up, meatheads – Miss Tendo is my friend. You want to attack her, you go through me." He spread his arms to the sides and bowed his head slightly. "So, who's first?"

The crowd shifted and muttered amongst themselves, uncertain of what to do. After a minute of hesitation a large, muscular young man dressed in a boxer's outfit stepped forward. "Come on, you guys," he said. He looked contemptuously at Nightwing. "What are you afraid of? He's just some loudmouth freak. Let's get him!" Shouts of agreement arose from the gang of suitors. Sneering, the boxer shuffled in quickly and threw a jab at Nightwing's face. Nightwing blurred, seizing the boxer's wrist, twisting it then driving his forearm into the boxer's arm. The boxer shrieked, face ashen as he fell to his knees, clutching his dislocated elbow. A boy in a gi jumped at Nightwing with a punch. Nightwing evaded and kicked out the boy's legs. He fell heavily on his back and Nightwing swiftly knelt, grabbed one of the attacker's hands and deftly broke his wrist. As the boy rolled away groaning, holding his hand close to his chest, a student in a soccer uniform rushed in with a kick. Nightwing blocked and the soccer player howled as he hopped back on one foot, having nearly broken his shin on the reinforced steel bracer that formed part of Nightwing's gauntlet. Nightwing pressed after the student, clapping his ears then grabbing his shoulders and kicking him in the groin with enough force to lift him three feet into the air. The boy crashed to the pavement, letting out high-pitched keens as he clutched at himself.

The rest of the attackers fell back with collective gasps of shock, all of them pale and wide-eyed, unnerved by the viciousness of Nightwing's defense. Akane stared, her hands covering her mouth as she realized just how dangerous this new acquaintance of hers was. The violence did not frighten her, but she was impressed, understanding now what he meant by saying she was too nice. She looked at the three boys crying and whimpering on the ground, her expression becoming grimly satisfied. She was not a cruel woman – in fact she was very empathetic by nature, and felt some measure of sympathy for their injuries. But they had pressed and harassed her every weekday for nearly three months, ignoring her protests, making her fight for her dignity and freedom. Akane did not like seeing people in pain, but believed her suitors had received punishments that were more than well deserved.

Nightwing looked at the crowd, smiling coldly, and took a step towards them. They shuffled away like sheep from a stalking wolf. "What, we done all ready?" he asked mockingly. "I'm disappointed. I was hoping to get more practice on my locks and breaks today."

"Cowards!" shouted Tatewaki Kuno as he stepped out from behind a tree. He walked with a slight limp while his open gi revealed bandages wrapping his chest. Faint ink stains marked his aristocratic face. "Why do you cringe away? He's but one man. Have at him!"

"No way, Kuno!" one of the boys shouted back. "That guy's a monster!

"Yeah! Akane may be the hottest girl in school, but she's not worth having my bones broken!" added another.

Kuno sneered at his cowering schoolmates. "Feh. I always knew none of you were worthy of Akane Tendo's attention. Watch as I smite this masked cur and claim my beloved once and for all."

"I am not your beloved, you creep!" Akane shouted. Nightwing looked at Kuno and shook his head.

"I don't know what's more impressive," he said. "Your tenacity or the delusions you labor under."

"Silence Nightwing!" Kuno brandished his bokken. "Now you'll receive righteous retribution you deserve for the treacherous assault you inflicted upon my noble personage last night."

Nightwing made a face, drew his grapnel and fired it. The grapnel's claw snapped tight around Kuno's bokken and Nightwing yanked it out of his hands. Kuno stumbled forward, nearly tripping. Nightwing charged and hit him squarely with a jumping thrust kick. The force of the blow knocked the kendoist onto his back and sent him skidding several meters, with Nightwing surfing on his chest. When they stopped Nightwing squatted on his hams, pinning Kuno. "Hey," he said. "We need to talk."

"Let me up, dog!" shouted Kuno. Nightwing nodded pleasantly then punched the ground next to Kuno's head, cracking the pavement. Kuno paled slightly.

"Do I have your attention now? Good. Miss Tendo told me an interesting thing or two last night while you were napping. She said the reason you get away with your sexual harassment -"

"It is no such thing!" Kuno protested indignantly. "Our fights are pure and honorable expressions of noble love."

Nightwing punched the ground again, widening the crack. Kuno's color faded further. "Shut up. You get away with your sexual harassment because you have money and your family knows people. I'm telling you now that your money doesn't impress me and you being wired doesn't scare me. I'm more than happy to pound you to scrap on a daily basis, given the opportunity. So, for the sake of my knuckles and your general well-being, I suggest you deny me that opportunity by apologizing to Miss Tendo and promising you'll never bother her again."

"I will do no such thing! The love between Akane Tendo and myself is glorious and sacred. A villain like you has no power to thwart it. We are destined to be together."

Akane scowled, Kuno's pronouncement making her feel angry and ill. Nightwing merely nodded pleasantly again, and again punched the pavement. The crack became a crater. "Listen," he said, bringing his lips down to Kuno's ear and whispering. Akane could not hear what he said, but Kuno turned stark white, his eyes bulging and sweat pouring form his brow.

"All right! All right!" cried Kuno. Nightwing got off him, hauled him to his feet and pushed him roughly in Akane's direction. Trembling, the kendoist bowed to her. "Akane Tendo, I... I wish to apologize for my behavior this term." Kuno's voice was strained, as if each word required great effort to say. "I... understand now that my attentions are unwanted, and promise that from here forthwith I will leave you in peace." He glanced nervously at Nightwing, who nodded. Kuno turned and laboriously walked to the school's front doors. As he left Nightwing looked around at the other male students. They all flinched from his gaze and hastily bowed to Akane, each one promising to never ask her out in such a violent manner again. Akane could only stare, stunned and speechless, but as each of her suitors forswore further pursuit a smile of joy and boundless relief grew larger and larger on her face.

Soon all of the boys participating in Kuno's pronouncement had made a promise and left the school courtyard, with a few of them helping to carry their injured peers to the nurse's office. Nightwing approached Akane, dusting off his hands and looking satisfied. "Anyone can be taught," he said. "Just a matter of finding the right motivation. I think your mornings will be fight-free from here on out, Miss Tendo."

"I... I can't believe this," Akane stuttered. "You did it. You actually did it!" She wrapped her arms around herself, letting out a happy squeal as she bounced on her toes, practically dancing with delight. Nightwing laughed, enjoying her display. She stopped bouncing and bowed to him. "Thank you so very much! I don't think I can ever repay you for this."

"Don't worry about it – all part of the service. Plus you've got the Nightwing warranty: the bad guys are absolutely, positively guaranteed to leave you alone, or else triple your money back."

"But I didn't pay you anything," she said with a laugh.

Nightwing shrugged and grinned. "Ah, that's why I'm not making any money with this superhero gig." Akane laughed again and smiled warmly at him, her brown eyes bright and shining. To her surprise his grin faltered. He ducked his head slightly, scratching the back of it. "I've got to get going," he said gruffly. He looked at her, seeming to have regained his composure. "Take care of yourself, Miss Tendo."

"I will. Thank you again." He gave her his two-fingered salute and strode off to the school gates. Akane watched him go, finding herself staring intently after him. She had not noticed last night, but was definitely noticing now just how _good_ Nightwing looked. His bodysuit looked as if it had been poured over him and molded to his lean form, while his tousled mane of black hair made her hands twitch. She idly wondered what it would feel like to run her hands through it, to tug on his ponytail. She also wished his mask did not have those lenses, so she could have seen what his eyes looked like.

Suddenly Akane became aware of murmurs all around her. She looked about at the Furinkan students who had stayed in the courtyard to watch the fight. All of them, but especially the girls, were staring at her with very interested speculation. She realized then just how blatantly she had been looking at Nightwing, practically _ogling_ him, and blushed a deep, rich red. It surprised her that she did not burst into flames on the spot. She tried to think of the best way to salvage her dignity, came quickly to the conclusion it was not worth the effort and made a dash for the school. But despite her embarrassment she was grinning – the questions she was going to have to field come lunch were a small price to pay for a Kuno-free life.

* * *

_She's cute,_ thought Ranma as he left the Furinkan school grounds. _Really, __**really**__ cute. _He had nearly embarrassed himself back there, with the way her smile caught him off guard. He could not remember the last time he felt so goofy. Maybe the first time Kairi had smiled at him. But in comparison, Kairi's smile had been a static shock; Akane's had hit him like a thunderbolt.

_Forget it, Saotome. Do you really have to enumerate all the reasons thinking like this is a bad idea?_ He frowned sharply for a moment, then indulged in a wistful sigh. _Still, she's really cute._

Enough of this. Time to get his head back in the game. Through his gauntlet-portable he deactivated the Nightcycle's security systems and started its engine while surreptitiously scanning his surroundings. His thorough search of the area around Furinkan High had netted nothing to excite his suspicions, but that did not mean the spy from last night would not come. He was turning into the alley where the Nightcycle was parked when he caught movement on a nearby rooftop, one offering an excellent view of the high school. He mounted the cycle, activated its whisper mode and carefully drove a circuitous route to the building. Luck was not with him – no one was there, and he found not even the slightest clue anyone had ever been there.

Ranma frowned thoughtfully as he drove back to the penthouse, wondering who else besides Kuno could be interested in Akane. Further investigation was in order.

* * *

Kozaku took a deep breath as she was admitted into the inner sanctum, steeling herself to deliver her report. Nightwing had come close to discovering her last night – only her superior knowledge of Nerima had kept her from being discovered. Walking past her sisters in the Elite Guard, she knelt before the dais where her mistress sat. She removed the crimson scarf covering her face, laid her short sword on the floor and bowed her head respectfully.

"Report," her mistress commanded.

"There is a complication," said Kozaku.

A dangerous pause. "Explain."

Kozaku swallowed. "Tatewaki Kuno had followed the new compulsions I introduced to him to increase his pressure on Akane Tendo. Last night he managed to arrange an ambush for her when she left the house for a walk, and I followed to observe. Someone interfered in the following fight, helping Tendo beat her attackers and defeated Kuno himself in single combat."

"Who? Between the Kuno's wealth and our own influence we have isolated the girl from any possible aid in this ward."

Kozaku took another deep breath. A bead of cold sweat trickled down the back of her neck. "Nightwing, my lady."

Her mistress hissed explosively and struck the arm of her throne. "What is _he _doing in Japan?"

"I do not know. However, it is the land of his birth, my lady."

"A land he has not returned to in six years. Why is he here _now, _and in _Nerima _of all places?" She hissed again. Kozaku could feel her eyes blazing. "You have further bad news?"

"Unfortunately yes, my lady. Nightwing appeared at Furinkan High School this morning and intervened in the morning fight. He thoroughly cowed all the young men of the school. They have forsworn all further pursuit of Tendo, and I think even Kuno will be reluctant to attack her for the next few days, despite his obsession."

Another lethal silence passed. "Did Saotome see you?"

Kozaku shook her head. "No, my lady, though he is aware that someone is watching Tendo. I managed to escape him, though it was a close thing. I dared not attempt to kill him – not without informing you first."

"You acted wisely, Kozaku, for you would have failed and revealed my presence in Japan. Nightwing is far beyond you. I dislike the brat, but the prowess of my beloved's protege is not to be despised." Kozaku heard her mistress sigh gustily. "We will withdraw for the moment. The last thing I wish is to attract Bruce's attentions at this delicate stage. But neither will I abandon a century's worth of careful toil because of that wretched urchin. We will watch from a distance, and await Saotome's next move. I hold you blameless in this, Kozaku, my servant. You have done well."

Despite her discipline Kozaku let out a brief sigh of relief. "Thank you, my mistress," she said fervently.

"Go. I must contemplate this development." Kozaku stood, bowed and withdrew.

Talia al Ghul's lovely face was impassive as she watched Kozaku depart, but within herself she seethed. Desiring solitude, she dismissed her bodyguard. Once alone, she slumped in her throne, folding her hands before her pursed lips as she brooded over this unexpected, unwelcome complication to her plans.


	7. Chapter 6

Shadows Over Nerima

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.

Chapter 6

"An arranged marriage?" said Wally West in disbelief. "An arranged marriage to one of three girls you've never met before?"

"Yup," said Ranma. He threw an Escrima stick, ricocheting it off three targets set on the gym's walls. He caught it on the rebound, spun on his heel and threw the stick at targets set on the opposite wall.

"Isn't that a bit, ah, old fashion?"

"You mean Stone Age." Ranma caught the returning stick, spun it in his hand and sat down Indian-style on the floor with a grunt. He looked at the holographic display showing his three friends gathered in the rec room of Titan Tower. "Yeah, it is. But since the old bastard is a cave man it suits him just fine."

"So, are these sisters hot?" Roy Harper asked.

"Roy!" chided Donna Troy.

"What?"

Ranma shook his head. "You know Roy, I find it oddly comforting that, no matter what the situation, I can always count on you to think with your dick."

"Hey, I'm just looking for a silver lining here. It'd be totally worse if your old man engaged you to some heinous bohog."

"So, a woman's looks are the only thing that matters?" Donna said stiffly.

"Aw Donna, I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then what exactly _did_ you mean?"

"Uh..."

"I think you should quit before you dig yourself in any deeper," murmured Wally.

"I agree," said Ranma. "Not that it matters, but all three of them are gorgeous. The youngest is especially cute. But I'm not gonna marry any of them." Ranma sighed. "Not if I can help it."

His three friends looked at him silently for a minute. "Did something else happen?" Donna asked, concern prominent in her sky-blue eyes. Ranma did not answer. "Ranma?"

He sighed again. "Yeah, I guess something did." Slowly, he told them of meeting his mother for the first time in over ten years and of the obligation to her inflicted upon him by his father.

"You have got to be fucking kidding," said Roy, anger heating his voice.

"Wish I was."

"And I thought my mother was a bitch," muttered Wally. Ranma let out a bark of strained laughter at that.

"Ranma," said Donna wide-eyed, "you don't actually think you have to go through with... with _it_, if that... _woman_ thinks you're unmanly, whatever she means by _that_?"

Ranma frowned unhappily, looking away, unable to meet his friend's worried gaze. "I know it's wrong, up here." He tapped himself on the temple. "It's a sick thing to expect of anyone, and especially of a kid. It's signed with my _hand prints_, for crying out loud. I couldn't have been more than a toddler. All the logic and common sense I have is screaming at me to tell her to go to hell. But... until I was ten, the old man ground into me that a martial artist has to keep his word, or else he has no honor. Fine thing coming from him, since he broke any promises he made right and left, best I recollect. Yet it's been burned into me, and I don't want to be like my pop. I made a promise to be a man among men."

"But you were a baby!" protested Donna. "There's no way you could have understood that contract."

"I know, Donna. It's stupid, and I'm stupid for even thinking I'm bound to it, but I can't help how I'm feeling." He slammed the butt of his Escrima stick against the floor in frustration.

Silence again. Then Roy cleared his throat. "Say, you looking for some company? We probably can get away for a week or two. It's been pretty quiet."

Ranma looked up at them. "Won't your guardians object to you all running over here on a moment's notice?"

Roy snorted. "You're pretty thick sometimes, Saotome. Two months ago we were on frickin' _Apokolypse_ helping Mark Moonrider rescue his friends from Kanto and Devilance. Ollie ain't going to say shit about me spending some of my summer vacation hanging out with you in Tokyo."

"Aunt Iris was pretty upset about that last mission," said Wally, giving Roy a bit of a sour look for his flippancy. Garth had been badly hurt during their time on Apokolypse. "But I don't think she or Uncle Barry would mind me dropping in on you, Ranma."

"I've never been to Japan before," mentioned Donna. "And I'm sure Diana won't have a problem with me paying you a visit."

Ranma looked quietly at his three dear friends for a few moments before smiling. "Thanks guys. It... it would be good to see you all in person and hang out. Maybe in a week or two – Bruce is coming to try to sort this mess out, and there are a few people I want to visit. But after that, I'll be more than happy to show you the sights." He sighed and stood up. "Speaking of Bruce, I gotta go clean up. Alfred and I are picking him up at Narita International in two hours. I'll talk to you guys soon."

"Take care of yourself, buddy," said Roy.

"Hang in there Ranma," added Wally.

"Let us know if there's anything we can do for you," said Donna. She was frowning slightly, feeling unhappy she was not there in person. If anyone needed a good hug right now, it was Ranma.

Ranma smiled at his friends and waved before the holographic display shut down. He sighed again and with a shake of his head headed for the shower.

* * *

Ranma and Alfred watched as two men passed through the private gate at Narita International Airport. The first was Bruce, looking tired, his suit a bit rumpled from the long flight from Gotham. The other man was not familiar to Ranma, and he frowned slightly as he evaluated him. He was African-American, taller than Bruce, though not quite as broad across the shoulders. Silver threaded through his close-cropped hair and his dark-mahogany eyes were large, keen and expressive. Unlike Bruce, his suit was immaculate, his black tie straight and stark against his white dress shirt. When the man spotted Ranma and Alfred he smiled and stepped ahead of Bruce, extending his hand. "Ranma," he said, his voice a warm, melodic baritone. "It's good to see you again."

If the form was not familiar, the voice certainly was. "John!" Ranma exclaimed, and with a grin shook his hand.

"Well, this _is_ a pleasant surprise," said Alfred. "I was not expecting you, Mister J'onzz."

"Yeah," agreed Ranma. "I didn't think I'd see you until I got back State-side."

J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter, inclined his head slightly. "Bruce mentioned to me your recent... difficulty, Ranma, and suggested an earlier visit would be beneficial. I agreed with him completely, and accompanied him on his flight."

Ranma took a deep breath, a strain within his chest starting to relax. "Thanks, J'onn," he said, quietly and sincerely. He looked at Bruce. "Thanks, Bruce."

Bruce smiled at his ward. "No problem, old chum." He gently slapped Ranma's shoulder.

Alfred examined his eldest with a critical eye. "When was the last time you slept, Master Bruce?"

"Thirty-six hours ago," said Bruce with an unrepentant shrug. Quietly, he continued. "I needed to arrange some things with Lucius since I was leaving on such short notice. Hal also needed some advice on matters outside his expertise, and there was some League business I wanted to discuss with J'onn." His concern for Ranma had also made it difficult for him to relax, but that needed not to be said. "I'll sleep round the clock once we get to the penthouse, Alfred. I promise. I have the feeling I'll want to be at my sharpest to deal with this mess Saotome's gotten Ranma into." Alfred nodded. Ranma made a face but said nothing, not disagreeing with Bruce's assessment.

Not much was said on the drive from Narita International, what conversation there was being between Ranma and J'onn, the two of them catching up, since they had not seen each other since before spring. Alfred made an occasional interjection while Bruce dozed. Once back at the penthouse Ranma and J'onn retired to the private study while Bruce settled himself in the living room. He owed J'onn J'onzz a great debt for the copious amount of time he had spent with Ranma. Psychiatry and psychology were refined sciences among the Martians, millennia more advanced than any Earthly techniques; the Martian Manhunter's telepathic therapy sessions had done much to put back together Ranma's sanity, badly shattered by the insane training inflicted upon him by his father.

Alfred set a tray of refreshments on the coffee table before Bruce. "Some Earl Grey, Master Bruce?" Bruce murmured his thanks as he picked up the steaming cup. "Have you a plan to extract Master Ranma from this intolerable situation, sir?"

Bruce sipped his tea and let out a soft sigh. "The beginnings of one, Alfred. Saotome I'm not worried about – he has several handles I can use to lever him into compliance. I've done some research on Soun Tendo. As of now he's a respectable citizen, but his youth is somewhat checkered. That can be used to our advantage if he proves unreasonable. Ranma's mother concerns me, however. I'll be paying her close attention when we meet tomorrow. There are some people whose minds you can't change once they've made a decision, and any woman who'd insist on her son agreeing to a seppuku pact is someone to be wary of."

Alfred sighed and shook his head as he picked up his own cup of tea. "She seemed such a lovely woman."

Bruce shrugged. "Appearances deceive, for good or for ill, as you well know old friend. Harleen Quinzel can be one of the most charming people you'll ever meet, if she puts her mind to it, and I still remember how taken I was with Pamela Isley when Harvey first introduced her to me."

"Very true." The two men fell into a companionable silence as they drank their tea. A few minutes later J'onn J'onzz emerged from the study, having reverted to his costumed Martian/Human hybrid form. "Some refreshment, Master J'onzz?" Alfred asked, gesturing to a small plate of Oreo cookies and a glass of milk.

J'onn smiled gently. "Thoughtful as always, Alfred. Thank you." He sat down and ate an Oreo with relish.

"How's Ranma?" asked Bruce after J'onn drank some of his milk.

"As well as can be expected," said J'onn. "Better, in fact. Mind you, he has been hurt by this. Ranma has no firm memories of his mother, having been separated from her at an early age, but what feelings he could recall were ones of maternal warmth and unconditional love. Meeting Nodoka Saotome awoke in him an unconscious but powerful longing for her and her approval. This... contract," J'onn frowned, brief but sharply, "was a great shock to him. It caused him great pain, and he is still in distress, but never doubt that Ranma has a strong core. He is determined to overcome this. He has admitted he feels obligated, despite knowing the irrationality of it. He will need support to reconcile that there is no dishonor in refusing such an unreasonable demand."

"Of course," said Alfred.

Bruce frowned thoughtfully. "Should I take him home?"

"Only if he wishes it," said J'onn. "But I don't think he will. He considered leaving the Tendo's abruptly something of a tactical retreat -"

"His secret technique," Bruce said with a wry chuckle.

"- But to leave the country would be, to him, running away from this problem – something his father would do, who is that last person he wishes to emulate."

Bruce nodded. "Very well. We'll let this play out and do our best to mitigate the situation. Thank you again, J'onn."

"You are welcome, Bruce. I am fond of Ranma." J'onn's eyes seemed to turn inward for a moment as he telepathically contacted Ranma, letting the young man know he was done speaking with Bruce and Alfred.

Ranma appeared a few minutes later. "You taking off, J'onn?"

J'onn J'onzz nodded. "Yes. I have monitor duty on the Watchtower this weekend, but please do not hesitate to call upon me if you have the need to talk."

Ranma shook hands with J'onn, smiling his thanks. "I'll walk you out, J'onn," said Bruce, and he escorted the Martian Manhunter out of the living room to one of the penthouse balconies. Ranma threw himself down onto an armchair. Alfred watched him closely; his boy seemed tired, emotionally wrung out, but the smile Ranma gave him was sincere, and his eyes lit up when he noticed the plate of red bean mochi on the refreshment tray.

When Bruce returned a few minutes later he was scowling at his phone, his face as black as a thundercloud. "What's wrong, Master Bruce?" asked Alfred.

Bruce did not answer immediately. "Of course, the minute I'm needed elsewhere something like this happens," he growled. He snapped his phone onto his belt. "Goddamn it... Alfred, I'm going to have to fly back to Gotham first thing Sunday. Victor Zsasz escaped from Arkham Asylum."

"What the hell," Ranma swore. "We just put him away six months ago. Sharpe should install a revolving door in that place and be done with it."

"How serious of a breach was there, Master Bruce?" asked Alfred.

"No one was killed, thankfully, but there are signs that Zsasz had assistance getting out."

Ranma frowned. "Who'd help _Zsasz_ out? Not even the Joker will have anything to do with the freak, and Joker's willing to work with about anyone, if he thinks it'll be amusing."

"No data," said Bruce. "Finding out will be high priority once I get Zsasz collared."

"Want me to come back with you?"

"Do you _want_ to come back?"

Ranma hesitated a moment as he thought. "Only if you think you'll need me. I don't want to leave things with the old man and... my mom unresolved. Also, I want to make sure Akane Tendo is going to be all right. I haven't made any headway on finding out who's stalking her yet."

Bruce arched a brow, noticing a light blush briefly dusting Ranma's cheeks, but did not push the matter. "I can handle Zsasz. Don't worry. And if we don't settle matters with your parents and Mr. Tendo tomorrow, I'll return as soon as I'm able to do so." Bruce yawned cavernously. "Excuse me."

"I think that's a sign you should retire," said Alfred.

"Agreed, Alfred. See you both first thing in the morning."

* * *

Author's Note – Sorry about the long delay on such a relatively short chapter. I've been working on a non-writing project that's consumed a lot of my time this past month. Hopefully I'll be able to produce more of _Shadows_ or my other stories a bit more regularly from here on out.

Cheers.

Jeremy Harper


	8. Chapter 7

Shadows Over Nerima

A Ranma ½ / Batman Fan Fiction

by

Jeremy Harper

Note – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.

Chapter 7

The second drive to the Tendo estate was somehow quieter than the first one. Ranma was so still as he watched the Tokyo scenery through the window Alfred had to restrain himself from checking to see if his boy was breathing. Bruce reviewed various documents on his tablet, lips pursed in concentration as he shuffled and scrolled through them. Alfred shifted between speculating on how the meeting between Bruce, Ranma's parents and Mr. Tendo would go and planning logistics for next week – after they dropped Bruce off at Narita International for his return flight to Gotham Sunday, he and Ranma were going to visit Yoru-sensei and spend the next few days as guests at his dojo.

The Benz pulled up before the open gates of the Tendo estate. Ranma stepped out of the car as Alfred gave instructions to the chauffeur, looking at the house with a half-frown as he took off and put away his sunglasses. Bruce stepped up next to him, appraising his surroundings. "Nice place," he said.

"It is," agreed Ranma. "Shame the same can't be said of a few of the people in it."

Bruce clapped him on the shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "You'll get through this. Trust me." Ranma took a deep breath through his nose and nodded slowly.

The Benz drove off around the corner and Alfred joined his boys. "Master Bruce, Master Ranma, shall we?"

"Yes," said Bruce, his expression becoming coolly stern. As they walked through the front gate and toward the front door, Ranma smiled briefly. Soun Tendo and his parents were in for a rare treat – Bruce being deadly serious in his civilian identity. The society pages and gossip columns considered Bruce Wayne something of an upper-class twit, an affable air-headed. But there were many, many businessmen around the world who could testify that, in the boardroom, he was a clever and ruthless negotiator.

Kasumi Tendo answered the front door, bowing politely to her visitors. Bruce's stern demeanor softened momentarily, impressed by her gentle beauty and remembering from Ranma's and Alfred's report she wanted nothing to do with this arrangement. After they removed their shoes in the genkan she led her guests to the living room, where the rest of the Tendos and the Saotomes were waiting. Soun stood and bowed to Bruce, welcoming him to his home and formally introducing him to his daughters. Ranma noticed that Bruce seemed to pay especial attention to Akane, but did not think much of it, knowing Bruce was probably just curious about the weird drama playing about the young woman.

Bruce then looked at Genma and briefly inclined his head. "Saotome," he said, his tone slightly above absolute zero.

"Wayne," Genma growled, his eyes flashing behind his athletic glasses.

Bruce nodded again and shifted his attention to Nodoka, sitting next to her husband. "Mrs. Saotome, correct?" he asked.

Nodoka nodded and bowed. "Yes. Before we begin, I wish to express my gratitude to you, Mr. Wayne, for taking care of my son these past six years."

Bruce's eyes narrowed slightly, "It's been my privilege," he said. "Ranma is a fine young man. I'm proud to have him as my ward." Nodoka smiled serenely and bowed again. Bruce sat at the table, Ranma and Alfred sitting to either side of him. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice, Mr. Tendo," he said to Soun. "We have much to discuss."

"There's nothing to discuss," said Genma sharply. "Ranma is to marry one of Tendo's daughters. End of the discussion."

"Saotome is correct," Soun agreed hastily. "He and I agreed to this arrangement many years ago, and we both want it to be fulfilled. It's a matter of family honor."

"Well, there are three problems with this," said Bruce. "First, while Saotome may be his father, _I'm_ Ranma's legal guardian. Saotome surrendered his parental rights to me six years ago, and he has no say in how Ranma lives. Second, Ranma is a minor in the eyes of both American and Japanese law. It'll be two years before he can consider marriage. Finally, and most importantly, Ranma does not _want_ to get married. He put forth several sensible objections to this arrangement, and I support him completely."

"What Ranma wants doesn't matter," said Genma. "He's a Saotome. He'll marry one of Soun's girls, the sooner the better, and unite the Anything Goes schools. That's final!" Bruce looked at Genma with a steely gaze; it took all of the of the elder Saotome's willpower not to flinch from it. For the life of him, Genma could not understand how this rich, pampered _gaijin_ could be so damn _formidable._

"It's far from final," said Bruce in a deceptively gentle voice. "What's final is Ranma's refusal. If either party in an _omiai_ have an objection to the arrangement, then the engagement can be broken without dishonor or scandal. Ranma objects, as do, if I understand correctly, your daughters, Mr. Tendo."

"Nabiki has expressed interest in the engagement," corrected Soun. Nabiki smiled brightly at Bruce, trying her hardest to look personable and unobjectionable. She found it hard not to fidget beneath the man's cool, appraising eyes. He surprised her by smiling back with good humor and bowing slightly.

"I salute her good taste," Bruce said. "But the fact remains Ranma is not interested."

Nodoka was frowning now, her right hand slowly caressing the long silk bundle lying in her lap as she looked at her son. "I do not find these attempts to shirk the requirements of honor to be very manly." All air and heat seemed to flee the living room in the wake of her pronouncement. The three Tendo sisters cringed away from the table while their father looked distinctly uneasy, despite the hopeful gleam in his eyes. Genma simply grinned, as if his wife's comment had settled the argument completely. For once in his life Alfred chose to completely disregard his training and openly scowl. Ranma's face was like a porcelain mask, lifeless and without color. He stared blindly at his hands, bunched white-knuckled on his knees.

Bruce's smile vanished, his deep blue eyes blazing with cold fire. He looked at Nodoka for a long, silent minute, who returned his gaze with better aplomb than her husband had. "I can assure you, Mrs. Saotome," he said, his voice chill and ominous, "that by any _reasonable_ standard Ranma is a man to be admired."

"Yet he would besmirch his father's honor and break a promise solemnly sworn – I do not consider that an act befitting someone who is suppose to be a man among men." Genma's smile grew larger. Bruce merely snorted.

"One can't besmirch what doesn't exist," he retorted. "And Ranma made no such promise. He attended the _omiai, _something that was sprung on him without warning, and refused it. The issue is closed."

Nodoka's frown sharpened. "No, it isn't. Ranma must marry one of Soun's daughters. It is an obligation that can not be set aside just because he finds it inconvenient." Ranma's breath rushed out of him as if he had been struck in the stomach. Alfred looked at him with deep concern, but Bruce kept his eyes locked on Nodoka.

"So, you'd use emotional blackmail to force Ranma into a situation repugnant to him, just to satisfy your own desires?" he asked quietly.

Nodoka's serene demeanor faltered. Her gray eyes blinked and she looked uncertain. "Blackmail? No, it's not..."

"What else would you call it? Twice now you've called into question his manliness, for which, if you deem it lacking, you'll insist on him committing seppuku. Threatening him with death if he doesn't comply with your demands... that sounds like blackmail to me."

Nodoka had become very pale, and a slight tremble coursed through her. "It's not... He made a promise-"

"Ah, yes. May I please see that document you showed him?" Nodoka hesitated. Beside her Genma had ceased grinning, and was looking at Bruce with concern. Soun and his daughters looked on with breathless fascination. Alfred allowed himself a small smile. Ranma continued to stare at his fists, but a little color was returning to his face. Finally, Nodoka produced the rice-paper contract and slowly handed it to Bruce. He scanned it once quickly, snorted, then read it a second time more carefully. When he looked back up at the Saotomes he did not conceal his disdain. "Leaving aside the fact that neither of our respective governments would recognize the legality of this... _thing_... Ranma was, what, three years old when he put his hand-prints on this? It is impossible to think he understood what he was agreeing to. He can not be held to this."

"Four years old or four-hundred, honor is honor," yelled Genma. "Ranma made a pact to be a man among men, and to be one he needs to fulfill the agreement to unite the Schools."

Nodoka closed her eyes, turning her face away from Bruce. "My husband is correct," she whispered. "Ranma is honor-bounded."

"I see," sighed Bruce. "Well, I guess that leaves me with only one option - I'll make Ranma a Wayne."

Nodoka's eyes snapped open and she stared at Bruce in disbelief. "What?" she gasped in a strangled voice.

Bruce shrugged indifferently. "The marriage agreement is for a Saotome to wed a Tendo. The Wayne family has no such arrangement with the Tendos, nor would it ever recognize such a thing. As for _this_," Bruce dropped the contract on the table. "It obligates Ranma _Saotome_ to be a 'man among men'. Ranma _Wayne _would not be bound to it." Bruce smiled shark-like at Genma. "Of course, you're still on the hook for this, Saotome. I think maybe you should go wash your neck."

"You can't do that!" Genma howled in protest.

"Of course I can. I'm all ready his guardian, his legal parent in the eyes of the law. This is just a further formalization of our relationship. Of course, he would have to agree to it." He looked over at Ranma and smiled. "What do you say, old chum? You might as well join the family officially – you are my heir, after all."

Ranma smiled for the first time this morning, a gleam of relief starting to dawn in his eyes. "I don't mind too much," he said softly. His smile faded when he glanced over at his parents. "It's not like I have much reason to be too attached to the name 'Saotome' right now. I gotta say, though, Ranma Wayne sounds a bit odd."

"I had a classmate in high school called Marmaduke Wilson. You're getting off easy in comparison."

"Mr. Wayne," said Nodoka tremulously, tears brimming in her eyes. "You would take my son away from me?"

Bruce looked at her coldly. "When it's a choice between that and either having him forced into an arranged marriage that will make him and his bride miserable, or have him emotionally coerced into ritual suicide? I'll do it in a heartbeat."

"Madam," spoke up Alfred. "Twelve years ago you gave up your son willingly. What difference does it make now?"

"I didn't want to," Nodoka whispered. "I..." She could not finish. She bowed her head, her shoulders shaking. She produced a handkerchief from her kimono's sleeve and roughly dabbed at her eyes. After a minute she composed herself and looked up. "May I ask you a question, Mr. Wayne?" Bruce nodded. "How did Ranma become your ward in the first place? Genma never explained the matter to my satisfaction."

"Ah, No-chan," Genma said with a nervous laugh. "That isn't relevant right now. What matters-"

"Quiet Genma," Nodoka ordered, her voice frost. He fell quiet. "Please, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce was silent for a moment. Ranma looked down at his hands again while Alfred glared at Genma. Finally Bruce sighed. "I won't go into detail here. All I'll say that is your husband's ideas of training are... unorthodox, and that he used up most of his natural luck in avoiding an extended stay at the Los Angeles County State Prison. I happened to be in the area at the time on business and heard about what happened. It caught my attention, and when I learned Ranma had no other relations, I offered to help him as best I can. Things proceeded from there."

"I see," said Nodoka softly. She took a deep breath then glared at her husband. Genma blanched beneath her sword-steel gaze. "I will discuss this with my husband at length later. As for now-" Her expression softened as she retrieved the contract from the table and returned it to the sleeve of her kimono. "I would still like Ranma to consider the engagement, but if he refuses it I will not deem him unmanly. But please, do not take what little connection I have left to him away from me." She blinked rapidly and dabbed at her eyes again.

Bruce nodded briefly. He would have preferred Nodoka repudiating the contract completely, but he could work on achieving that later. This was acceptable for now. He looked at Soun, who sat with slumped shoulders but also appeared to be working himself into a fit of temper. An offer of a carrot after the threat of the stick seemed appropriate. "Thank you, Mrs. Saotome. I understand that this refusal is a disappointment to you and Mr. Tendo, and to some extent I sympathize. Perhaps I can make it up to you in some other way."

"What do you mean, Mr. Wayne?" asked Nodoka.

"Compensation for your thwarted expectations, as well as a token of my appreciation for your consideration of Ranma's feelings in this matter." There was not a trace of irony in Bruce's voice.

Soun bristled. "If you think you can just buy my honor-"

"Now Tendo," Genma interjected quickly, greed making him forget his fear of his wife's anger. "Don't be too hasty here. Wayne is renowned for his generosity."

Bruce shrugged. "I don't _think_ anything, Mr. Tendo. I've proven I don't need to do anything save take Ranma back to Gotham and file certain legal papers. But I don't like leaving ill-feelings in my wake when I can avoid it. If you are not interested in monetary compensation, perhaps I can offer something else." He looked at the Tendo girls and gave them a charming smile. "Student loans aren't as outrageously usurious in Japan as they are in the States, but still, it's good to start adult life ahead of the game if you can. I'm sure your daughters would appreciate some generous financial aid. I can arrange for business, athletic or even medical scholarships – whatever their preference."

Nabiki was smiling widely at Bruce's suggestion, and he had caught Akane's interest as well. But at the mention of the possibility of a medical scholarship Kasumi let out a soft gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. Bruce's smile became warm instead of charming, and he bowed his head slightly to her. "Father," Kasumi said softly, "Mr. Wayne is being very kind and magnanimous. Perhaps-"

Soun shook his head sharply. "The only thing I'll accept is the unification of the schools and an heir to the Tendo dojo." Pain and anger flashed across Akane's face before she got control of her emotions. She clenched her hands in her lap and bowed her head, her long blue-black hair veiling her face.

Bruce frowned slightly. "That will not happen, Mr. Tendo. You'll do yourself no good being inflexible. Let's discuss this."

"Excuse me," said Ranma as he stood. "I need some air." He made for the genkan for his shoes and once on the front step took a deep breath through his nose, filling his lungs with warm, dry summer air and releasing it through his mouth. "Goddamn," Ranma murmured. "Bruce is going to do it." He smiled slightly, though strangely he felt little elation. He took a moment to examine his emotions, the way J'onn had taught him, and realized he felt disappointed – disappointed with his mother. Foolish, perhaps, to feel such a way with someone he did not know, but he had always thought that, where his father had always considered him as an object to be bartered or used as Genma saw fit, his mother would be different, would love him for who he was, unconditionally. With a sigh he thrust the thoughts away – he would grapple with this later, in private. With a shake of his head he headed around to the back of the estate, wanting to see the dojo.

Ranma stood in front of the dojo's front steps, which led up to its wrap-around engawa and main doors. It was an old building, as old as the Tendo house, and obviously loved and well-cared for. He admired it silently for a few minutes when he heard someone walking up behind him. He turned to find Nabiki standing with her arms folded beneath her breasts, smiling wryly.

"Hey," she said.

"Hello."

"Daddy's being stubborn, but it looks like you're going to be a free man."

"Thank goodness," Ranma said sincerely.

Nabiki's smile widened a trifle. "Am I really that unappealing?" she teased.

Ranma gave her a narrow-eyed look. "No, you're not," he said bluntly. "You're gorgeous and so are your sisters. It's the arranged marriage that doesn't appeal to me. Don't tell me _you_ like the idea of getting engaged, let alone married, at – what, seventeen – to a guy you don't know?"

Nabiki chuckled, letting a hand drop to her hip and posing for him slightly, her smile changing from wry to something more sultry. "Oh, I don't think it'd be that bad. There would be _considerable _compensation in it for both of us."

Ranma could not help the amused snort that escaped him. Nabiki's smile stiffened a little. He had to concede, though, that the middle Tendo sister looked good. She was dressed in a snug short-sleeved white blouse and tight jean capris, her well-pedicured toes painted dark-plum in a striking contrast to the white crystal sandals on her slender feet. But Ranma had been dealing with women who used their sexuality as a lethal weapon since he was ten, so while he appreciated Nabiki on an aesthetic level her sensuality did not effect him. "I'm sure there would be," he said. "But since Bruce isn't going to agree to an engagement the point is moot."

Nabiki pouted, folding her arms again. "You always do what Bruce says?"

Ranma smirked. "Sometimes."

Nabiki sighed theatrically. "Can't blame a girl for trying. Too bad – I think we could have had fun together."

"Maybe," said Ranma, managing not to sound skeptical. Nabiki gave a negligent shrug before turning to go. Just before she rounded the corner of the house Akane appeared. The sisters paused for a moment to look at each other, Akane seeming surprised, Nabiki with her lips quirked. Nabiki shrugged again and sauntered off. Akane stared after her curiously before approaching Ranma.

"Mr. Saotome, may I speak with you for a moment?" she asked hesitantly.

"Uh, sure," Ranma said, wondering what she wanted. "What can I do for you, Miss Tendo?" A large part of him was happy for a chance to talk to her in his civilian identity, though the pragmatic side of him knew he was wasting his time – he doubted he would ever see her again when he left Japan sometime in August. Still, it would not hurt getting to know her better. She looked nervous, holding her hands down by her tights, twiddling her thumbs as she bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. Ranma thought she looked adorable, and tried not to smile. She was dressed more demurely than her sister, wearing a yellow and white blouse with a knee-length navy-blue skirt, her long hair bound by a large golden ribbon. Finally Akane took a deep breath and bowed low. Ranma blinked in surprise.

"I want to apologize to you," she said softly. "When my father told us about the arrangement he made with your father, I was terribly angry. I blamed you for the situation, which was very unfair of me. I'm sorry."

Ranma stared at her in wonder, struck speechless for a moment. He shook his head in an effort to gather his wits. "H-hey, it's all right. You don't have to apologize for being angry about this mess. Hell, I was pretty angry about it myself."

"True, but you directed you angry appropriately, where I was mad at you for something you weren't responsible for. There's no excuse for that. Again, I'm sorry."

Ranma laughed. "There's no need for that. It's not like you hit me with the table when I walked into your living room." Smiling, he returned her bow. "I accept your apology, and forgive you for being angry – not that you need my forgiveness, Miss Tendo."

"Please, call me Akane."

"Only if you call me Ranma. Mr. Saotome is the old fool sitting in your house," said Ranma with another laugh. "Would you like a fresh start of this and try to be friends?"

Akane beamed at him, and once again Ranma felt like he had been struck by a thunderbolt. "I think I'd like that."

"Good!" said Ranma brightly, hoping he had managed to control his blush. "Ah, your sister mentioned your pop was being stubborn?"

Akane sighed and nodded. "I'm afraid so. Daddy can be very willful when he wants something. Sometimes childishly so. It's embarrassing. I think Mr. Wayne is starting to lose his patience with him. I hope you don't mind me saying, but your guardian is sort of scary."

_You don't know the half of it,_ Ranma thought wryly. "He can be, when he thinks there's a need for it. Usually he's a lot more laid back." He looked over his shoulder. "Your dojo is very nice."

"Thank you," said Akane. She walked past Ranma and laid a hand on one of the engawa's support posts. "It's been in my family since just after the war. It's a great place to train in. I love it."

Ranma smiled at her. "So you're a martial artist?" he asked, all ready knowing the answer.

Akane nodded. "Yes. It's all I want to do with my life. I love practicing and competing. I hope maybe some day I'll get to teach here as well." She started to frown sadly. Ranma frowned as well, recalling Soun's comment about his dojo needing an heir. From what Ranma had seen of Akane's ability, Soun had a more than worthy heir in his youngest daughter. Ranma surmised that Mr. Tendo was something of a chauvinist. He also decided that Akane looked much cuter when smiling happily.

"Do you play any sports?" he asked, hoping the change of subject would brighten her mood.

Akane started to smile again. "Yep. I'm captain of my school's volleyball team. I play a lot of other sports too, when I get a chance. I like being active."

Ranma grinned. "You're something of a tomboy, aren't you?"

Akane glared at him, taking him aback. "What, you have a problem with tomboys?"

Ranma waved his hands. "No problem at all! One of my best friends is a tomboy. Hell, she's probably a bigger tomboy than you." Ranma chuckled. "The two times I've seen you, you've been in a skirt. That's two more times than I've seen Donna in one this year."

Akane pinked prettily in embarrassment, glancing down at her shoes. "Sorry," she said. "I have a terrible temper." She flounced down on the steps.

"It's okay," said Ranma, sitting down next to her. "I've got a bad temper too."

"I bet Mr. Wayne never called you a violent maniac," she grumbled.

"No, but Alfred calls me an unruly savage, sometimes." Ranma shrugged. "And he's right. I _was_ a savage when Bruce and he first took me in, and I can still be pretty savage even now. I used to get into fights all the time because I refused to take crap from spoiled punks who thought they were better than me just because they're white and I'm Japanese." He snorted. "Hell, I still have to beat on the idiots on occasion, just to teach them respect."

Akane looked at him quietly for a moment, her dark brown eyes poignant. "I'm sorry you have to go through that, Ranma," she said softly.

Ranma looked down at his lap, feeling embarrassed and touched by her sympathy, and honestly surprised by it. "Eh, it's okay. I've got a lot of great friends, and I'm living in a way I never dreamed possible. There's far more good than bad in my life." _And besides, compared to what you put up with for three months I've got no right to complain about a few inbred upper-class idiots._

Akane smiled again. "I'm glad. And I guess that also answers my question about whether you still practice – not that I couldn't tell from the way you walk."

Ranma chuckled. "Yeah. I love martial arts too. The old man started training me when I began walking. Bruce also likes to practice, and helps me keep in shape, though I don't train the way I used to." Ranma technically spoke the truth; in some ways his training was even more intensive than what Genma had put him through, though Bruce's methods were nowhere near as insane. "I'm actually going to visit one of Bruce's and my sensei's Sunday."

"Oh? What's his name?"

"Yoru Yamamoto."

Akane's eyes went wide. "Yoru Yamamoto?" she squeaked. "Really?"

"Yeah. You've heard of him?"

Akane looked at him as if he just spoke gibberish. "_Of course_ I've heard of Yamamoto-sensei! He's one of the greatest martial artists living today. He's practically a National Living Treasure!" Akane sighed and shook her head. "I'm so jealous. I'd love to train with a master like him. I've had to practice by myself for a long while now. I'm lucky if I can get daddy to work out with me once a week." She started to look depressed again. Ranma wondered how to cheer her up when she looked at him speculatively. "You must be good if Yamamoto-sensei taught you."

"He said I wasn't without talent," Ranma said with a smirk.

"Really. Care to prove it?"

"How?"

"Let's have a match."

Ranma blinked. "I'm not dressed for a spar, and I don't have a gi with me."

Akane grinned at him. "I'm sorry, I thought you practiced Anything Goes. You afraid of getting your nice shirt all wrinkled?"

Ranma stared at her incredulously for a moment before grinning himself. "You really want to challenge me, Tomboy?"

"You bet I do."

"You're betting on having your cute little butt kicked."

Akane blushed slightly. "Hmmph. Like I said – prove it, jerk."

"_I'm_ a jerk? Ha!" Ranma smoothly stood up. "Okay Akane, you're on."

"Great!" She jumped up and ran toward the house. "Be right back!"

"Where are you going?"

"To change into my gi."

"How is _that_ fair?"

"It's not!"

Ranma stared after her until she vanished into the house. Then he started laughing – hard, long and honestly. It was the first time he had a full-fledged laugh since his father had surprised him with the arranged marriage.

* * *

Author's Notes

Much thanks and appreciation to PurseMonger for her advice and enthusiastic support.

A reviewer mentioned not being familiar with some of the characters from the last chapter. Here are some brief write-ups.

**Roy Harper/Arsenal** – Green Arrow's teen partner, of Navajo and Caucasian descent. Master marksman, uses long bows, trick arrows and stun guns. Expert martial artist and a decent detective in his own right. Something of a ladies man. Briefly dated -

**Donna Troy/Wonder Girl** – Wonder Woman's adopted younger sister. Powers include super strength, flight, an enchanted lasso and projectile deflecting bracelets. Co-leader of the Teen Titans with Nightwing – Ranma is the tactical leader, while Donna is the team's public face and spokeswoman.

**Wally West/Kid Flash – **Nephew of Iris Allen, who is the wife of Barry Allen, the second Flash. Possesses amazing super-speed. Tends to suffer from esteem issues due to a troubled relationship with his parents.

**Garth/Tempest –** Aquaman's ward. Atlantean. Powers include super strength, super-speed while swimming, telepathic control of marine life, hydrokinesis and latent sorcerous talent. While not a reserve member, his responsibilities to Atlantis tend to keep him away from the Titans more often than he would like.

Reserve members of the Teen Titans include Omen (Lilith Clay – precognition, telepathy, telekinesis and teleportation) and Beast Boy (Garfield Logan – animal metamorph).

The three other Titans that I believe most readers on this site would be most familiar with – Starfire, Raven and Cyborg – are either not yet active or do not exist in this continuity.

Ranma/Nightwing fun fact – Catwoman loves to flirt outrageously with Nightwing just to make him blush. To Ranma's mortification, Selina still can manage it, even after six years experience dealing with her. Batman finds this amusing, but when he thinks she is going too far with it tells her to 'knock of the Mrs. Robinson act.' Ranma doesn't get the reference, but it pisses off Catwoman something fierce – _'I'm not that old, Batman!'_

Take care all.

Jeremy Harper


	9. Chapter 8

Shadows Over Nerima

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.

Chapter 8

Finding the dojo's doors unlocked, Ranma stepped out of his shoes and socks and unbuttoned his shirt. Taking that off, he carefully folded it, setting it next to his shoes and putting his sunglasses on top of it. He hesitated a moment over pulling off his tee-shirt – he preferred to train and spar bare-chested if he did not have his gi or bodysuit. But he had a few scars that would be hard to explain, so he left it on. His dress pants were durable and loose, so he was not concerned with them. Ranma entered the dojo, flipping on the light switch next to the door and taking a moment to admire the well-swept, polished floor and clean white walls. He walked to the center of the hall, bowed respectfully to the shrine on the wall and started to warm up. As he progressed through his kata he speculated on how much he would need to hold back, so to protect his alternate identity. Akane was very good, as her victories over hordes of multiple opponents demonstrated, but the morons from her school were far below her in ability. Kuno was better, but Ranma had beaten him with relative ease. While he did not want to throw the match, he also did not want to reveal how good he was either – she had seen him fight as Nightwing, after all. He gave a mental shrug – he would wait for the first exchange with Akane before deciding a course of action.

Akane came skipping into the dojo dressed in a butter-yellow gi with a black belt. Smiling eagerly she bowed to the shrine and started her own warm-up. Ranma watched her covertly. Her physical talent was tremendous, but he could detect flaws in her form that confirmed her statement she had been training herself. Ranma frowned thoughtfully – Akane's natural ability compensated for that greatly, but against a higher class of opponent she would be terribly vulnerable.

After warming up the two teens took positions at opposite ends of the hall. They bowed to each other and assumed active guards.

"Don't go easy on me," said Akane, a determined look settling on her face. "Because I won't go easy on you."

Ranma cricked his neck and grinned back. "I'll keep that in mind, Tomboy."

"Hmmph. You know, you're a bit of a jerk."

"Only to people I like." The comment startled Akane, a blush dusting her cheeks momentarily, but she swiftly controlled her reaction. With a loud cry she charged Ranma, lashing out with a straight strong punch. Ranma countered with a hard block and a testing jab which Akane avoided with a slip of her head.

Ranma was content to let Akane keep the offensive, parrying or evading her attacks, occasionally throwing an easily avoidable strike to keep her alert. She had gaps in her defenses he could have easily exploited but did not, merely noting them. She was very strong but her speed was not quite what it could be. None of her problems were insurmountable – Ranma figured that maybe six months of proper instruction would be enough to correct her forms and get her progress on track.

The spar was approaching the one minute mark when Ranma decided to end it. He deflected a punch then quickly stepped close to Akane, hooking the back of her leg with his while simultaneously striking her shoulder with a forearm. Akane tripped, her breath rushing out in a huff as her back hit the floor. Ranma dropped to one knee and gently rapped her stomach with his knuckles before she could roll away. "Gotcha!" he crowed as he jumped back up to his feet. "That was fun. You're really good, Akane." He offered her his hand.

Akane did not seem to see it. She stared up at the ceiling, her eyes oddly blank. After a few moments she rolled away from Ranma, slowly rose and walked away from him, head slightly bowed. Ranma dropped his hand to his side and looked at her with concern. "Akane? Are you okay?"

Akane stopped walking and wrapped her arms around herself. Ranma's concern grew. She did not seem hurt; he could not figure out why she was acting dazed. Maybe it was because she lost? It seemed childish, but he recalled the reason those idiots at school had attacked her every day was because they thought she would have to go out with the guy who beat her in a fight. Maybe she was not dazed by her lost, but instead frightened. Even if she knew intellectually that he would not expect such a thing, or was even aware of her situation, she might not be able to help being scared. The thought of Akane being afraid of him made Ranma's heart twist painfully in his chest. "Akane?" he said again.

Akane whirled on him and glared, her eyes hot and sharp, her face flushed with anger. "Why did you hold back?" she demanded.

"Wh-what?" Ranma stuttered. _How the hell did she know? I __**know**__ I concealed my abilities properly._ "I did no such thing!"

Akane scowled. "Don't lie to me, Ranma! I could tell. You weren't taking me seriously. Why? Is it because I'm a girl?"

"No! Not at all. I _am_ taking you seriously, Akane!"

"Then stop being a jerk and fight me properly!"

Ranma stared at her. "Okay." He set himself into guard. "Again." Akane nodded grimly and attacked.

Ranma allowed her to keep the offensive again, but he was more aggressive in his defense, countering and riposting often, forcing her to evade and parry vigorously, though he still did not press on her vulnerabilities. After a half-minute Akane growled, slapped at his fists and jumped away. "You're still holding back!"

"I am not! Damn it, Akane, I'm doing my best here."

"I'm not stupid, Ranma. I know you're not fighting as well as you could. Is it beneath you to actually put in an honest effort against me?"

"But I am!"

Akane opened her mouth to shout again but checked her self. The anger faded from her face as her shoulders slumped and she pursed her lips tight. She turned from Ranma and walked to the doors. "Akane?" Ranma called.

"I thought you wanted to be friends, Ranma," Akane said softly.

"I do want to be your friend!"

"Well, I don't want to be yours. Not if you can't be bothered to respect me. I have enough people in my life who don't respect me that I don't need another. I thought you were different from the other boys I know, but I guess I'm wrong. Good-bye, Mr. Saotome."

Ranma stared at her dumb-founded, mouth agape, shaking out of his surprise when she slid open the dojo doors. "Wait!" he shouted. Akane paused at the threshold and looked over her shoulder at him. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and did not completely succeed. "All right," he said, anger bleeding into his voice. "You want for real? Then I'll give you for real. One more time." He was angry with her for forcing this. It was irrational and unfair of him, but he could not help it. He did respect her – why could she not see that? But he also had a secret to guard and he did not want to hurt her. He shrugged his shoulders and settled into his deceptively relaxed stance, arms hanging loose by his sides, legs slightly crouched.

Akane turned towards him, her dark-brown eyes suspicious as she assessed him. At first glance it still looked like Ranma was not taking her seriously, but something about the attitude he projected made the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickle. Akane approached him slowly, frowning when he did not go into guard as she closed. She snapped out a punch and Ranma's arms _blurred_, striking her fist away and throwing a punch of his own. Akane gasped as she jumped back. Ranma did not press, settling back into his relaxed stance. Akane looked at him warily as she touched her cheek where his knuckles had grazed her. Ranma tilted his head slightly, his gaze challenging.

Akane's eyes flared with excitement as a pleased grin curved her lips. With a shout she attacked again, throwing two punches and a round-house kick at his head. He easily evaded the punches, ducked the kick, hard-blocked her follow-up strike, then attacked. It took every bit of Akane's skill and energy to keep herself from being instantly overwhelmed. She felt as if she was in the midst of a hurricane – punches, kicks, elbows and knees coming at her from all directions. No one - not even Kuno – had fought her like this before, and she found the experience exhilarating. To have her skills tested to the utmost and beyond was all she ever wanted, and she was enjoying every second of it.

After twenty seconds Ranma's furious assault slowed slightly, finally giving her an opportunity to counter-attack. She threw a punch at his jaw, realizing at the last instant she had fallen for a trap. Before she could escape Ranma grabbed her wrist and twisted, locking her arm. Suddenly he was behind her, his foot at the back of her knee, forcing her down, and his forearm tapped her shoulder joint. "I just dislocated your arm," Ranma whispered into her ear. He released her and stepped back, allowing her to stand and face him. "Was that real enough for you?" he demanded harshly. He was breathing heavily, his muscular chest rising and falling, though he looked more upset than winded.

"Yeah," said Akane. "It was." She took a deep breath and gave Ranma a huge, grateful, beautiful smile, her eyes shining. "Thank you very much!" she said, bowing deeply.

Ranma looked at her in disbelief before suddenly laughing. He returned her bow. "You're welcome," he said. "That's the first time anyone has ever thanked me for beating them up."

"It was great!" Akane enthused, making Ranma laugh again. "I've never been challenged like that before. It was worth losing to have a spar like that."

Ranma did not know whether to preen or feel abashed. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked.

Akane waved off his concerns. "Just some bruises – totally worth it! You're really good. Think we could spar again sometime?"

Ranma found the prospect extremely appealing. "Well, I am going to be in Japan for about a month." He thought it over for a few moments then sighed. "I don't know, it may give your dad and my parents the wrong idea."

Akane sighed herself. "I didn't think of that. It's possible meeting you again for a spar could get daddy's hopes up. Oh well." She shrugged and smiled. "Thank you again for taking me seriously." Her expression became thoughtful. "You know, there's something familiar about your style."

Ranma froze for a split-second. _Damn!_ "Not really surprising – our schools are related, after all," he replied smoothly.

"True," said Akane. "Still, I feel like I've seen something similar to it recently. I just can't place it."

"Master Ranma?" The two teens turned to the main door and found Alfred at the threshold, Panama hat in hand. "Master Bruce is ready to depart."

_Saved!_ "All right, Alfred. Be right there." He bowed to the shrine and then to Akane. "Thanks for the match. Take care of yourself, Akane."

Akane bowed in return. "You too, Ranma." Ranma stepped onto the engawa, stuffed his socks into his pockets, slipped into his shoes, donned his sunglasses and slung his shirt over his shoulder. He headed for the front of the house, followed by Alfred and Akane.

Bruce was waiting by the front gate with Nodoka. No one else was in sight. Bruce looked blandly out at the street while Nodoka held herself stiffly. She did not have her silk-wrapped katana. Bruce noted Ranma's disheveled state but other than cocking an eyebrow did not comment. Nodoka bit her lower lip, her eyes bright with un-shed tears, and stepped towards her son. "Ranma," she said. "I would like it if you would visit me. I... understand you are unhappy with me, but I want the chance to get to know you better. Please, my son?"

Ranma pressed his lips into a tight line. "I will... consider it." He tried not to sound grudging. Nodoka's mouth quivered as a tear rolled down her cheek, but she nodded her acceptance of Ranma's answer. She bowed to him, then to Bruce, and walked slowly back to the Tendo house. Ranma watched her go then noticed Akane looking at him with sad sympathy. He shrugged, smiled at her and waved goodbye.

* * *

"I think we should have hosed you down before letting you into the car, Master Ranma," said Alfred. Ranma grunted, staring out the rear passenger window of the Benz.

"What's on your mind?" asked Bruce.

Ranma sighed and shook his head. "I think I made a mistake," he muttered.

"Oh?" Bruce's mouth quirked into a sly smile. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to acquiesce to Tendo wanting you to marry one of his daughters after all."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Well, you did spend some significant time alone with one of the Tendo girls, and now you're sitting there all sweaty, flushed and disheveled. Do I have to spell it out for you, kid?"

Ranma shot Bruce a sour look. "You're spending too much time with Selina," he grumbled. He sighed again. "I underestimated Akane, Bruce."

"What happened?" Bruce asked, his demeanor becoming serious.

"We were talking out by the dojo when I mentioned to her I had some training with Yoru-sensei. She challenged me to a spar and I agreed to it." Ranma looked out the window again. "Her talent is phenomenal; she deserves much better training than what little she's getting from her old man. But I didn't realize just how damn _sharp _she is. She knew I was holding back at first. I know I was concealing my skills properly, yet somehow she figured I wasn't fighting with my full ability. On top of that, after we finished our spar, she mentioned my style looked familiar, and not because it's an Anything Goes variant."

"My word," muttered Alfred. "She _is _a remarkable young lady."

Bruce was silent for a moment. "Did she say anything more?"

"No. She was chasing after the connection when Alfred interrupted her train of thought."

"Hmmm. Well, suspicion is not proof, and from what you've told me about her, I think she's sufficiently grateful to you that she won't speculate to anyone about your alter-ego – that is, if she does make the connection."

"She could – she's far from stupid."

"I'll bow to your judgment; I haven't talked to her." Bruce grinned. "However, I do recognize the fact she's very cute."

Ranma rolled his eyes. "Whatever. How did it go with her old man?"

Bruce frowned slightly. "He's being... recalcitrant. He's adamant about you marrying one of his daughters."

"Maybe I _should_ become a Wayne."

"I wouldn't mind, but let's see if I can get his cooperation first. I'd prefer to get you free and clear of this by having everyone releasing you by their own will. I'll be meeting with Tendo again after I deal with Zsasz. I'm certain I'll find something that will convince him that it's in his best interest to leave you a free man."

"Good. It'll be nice to finally get out of the mess the old fool landed me in."

* * *

Akane was heading to the furo when she ran into Nabiki in the hallway. "Can't you leave just one boy to us common mortals, sis?" Nabiki groused.

"Oh come on, Nabiki," laughed Akane, not noticing the sour note of jealousy in her older sister's voice. "Ranma's a nice guy, but he's not interested in any of us."

"Yeah, right." Spying from her bedroom window, she had noticed how Ranma looked at Akane before he left, even if her younger sister had not. "It's not fair that every boy you meet pretty much throws themselves at you, especially when you all ready have a boyfriend."

Akane scowled. "It's not like I _want_ that kind of attention from those perverts at school. And Kuno is _not_ my boyfriend!"

"Who's talking about Kuno? I'm talking about the guy who beat up Kuno for you. You remember tall, dark and mysterious, right? The man in the skin-tight leather and with the hot, tight ass?"

Akane blushed. "Nightwing was just helping me out. He's a super hero. That's what they do."

Nabiki smirked. "Maybe, but that doesn't mean you wouldn't want him for your boyfriend. I saw how you were watching him when he left – like he was a piece of mochi you wanted to gobble up. Not that I blame you, sis. He's definitely a stud."

"Nabiki!" Akane's blush deepened to a rose-red. She swatted at her sister, who dodged with an ease born of long experience. "I'm done talking with you," she said primly, and walked past Nabiki to the bath.

But once she finished washing and was soaking her sore muscles in the furo, she could not help but think about Nightwing. Nabiki had a point; he definitely was hot – the hottest guy Akane had ever seen. He was even more handsome than Dr. Tofu!

Akane slumped down into the water, feeling dejected. What was it with her falling for unattainable men? Still, a little fantasy never hurt a girl – something to keep her warm and entertained on lonely nights.

After she got out of the furo and was drying off, her thoughts drifted to Ranma Saotome. She smiled softly, glad she took the time to talk to him. She never thought she would meet a boy her age that was actually nice. He was a great martial artist too. Good thing he did not go to Furinkan, or else she probably would have ended up having to date him. She shook her head, chiding herself – after getting to know him she could not imagine him participating in Kuno's stupidity. She frowned a little as she donned a clean yukata. There was something about Ranma's fighting style... It seemed so familiar, and she wished she could figure out why. _Oh well, I'm sure it'll eventually come to me, if it is important._

* * *

Talia al Ghul practiced her scimitar forms, her body coated with a fine sheen of sweat from her hours of non-stop exercise. A maelstrom of cold rage and incredulous disbelief howled within her as she digested with the information brought to her by her servants. What were the odds that Ranma Saotome would have such intimate ties with the Tendo family? To have Nightwing's attention drawn to Akane Tendo at this critical juncture – Talia could not imagine a worse complication to her and her father's plans.

_Damn you, Young-Il_, thought Talia as she viciously slashed the air. _May every demon in Perdition have their way with you for the next thousand years. _Talia had withdrawn her agents away from the Tendo estate's vicinity, not withing to risk revealing her presence, especially with Bruce visiting the area. He would be leaving soon thankfully – she had seen to that. It would cost her valuable assets, though she was certain her father's influence on Arkham Asylum and that useful fool Quincy Sharp would remain un-revealed and un-compromised. But it was a lateral move, at best, removing her beloved from the field only temporarily. It was too much to hope he would take Ranma with him.

Talia's only comfort in this disaster was that there was no way Bruce would countenance an arranged marriage between his ward and one of the Tendo girls. But the damage had all ready been done. Ranma was aware that Akane Tendo was being watched, and he would not forget. He was too much his master's student to do so. Even if he discovered nothing before returning to Gotham, he would take pains to leave alarms behind. If something happened to Akane he would know and come to investigate, most likely bringing either Bruce or the Teen Titans with him.

Talia finished her final set with a flourish before stalking to her waiting attendants, who carried away her scimitar, toweled her off and offered her refreshment. "I will bathe now," she announced. The servitors salaamed and scurried off to prepare her bath.

As she relaxed in her large, heated pool, chewing white grapes and sipping wine three centuries old, she dismissed her anger and began to review the situation through calculating eyes. She would have to accelerate her plans for Akane; Dr. Moon had warned such a move could result in stunted instincts, but Talia no longer had the luxury to oversee a leisurely apotheosis. A flawed weapon of unmatched caliber was better than wasting one-hundred years of painstaking forging. There was opportunity here, as well. A chance to pluck a thorn from her side. Saotome neither liked nor trusted her, and was an obstacle in her pursuit of Bruce's affections. The wretched, gutter-born urchin was also an usurper of a position for which he was unworthy. Talia touched her stomach, a fond smile flickering briefly across her lips. There was only enough room in the world for one Son of the Bat.

The question at hand was who to use to facilitate Nightwing's demise. The League of Assassins was out of the question – since the defection of the treacherous Shiva, the only active members Talia judged having a chance against him were David Cain and perhaps Merlyn, but if they succeeded Bruce would immediately know she was behind the order, and would be lost to her forever. The same problem applied to assassins operating outside the League. If someone such as Deadshot or the Terminator managed to kill Saotome, Bruce would stop at nothing to hunt the killer down and find out who had commission him.

No, Talia needed someone dangerous enough to kill Saotome, but who was not known as an assassin for hire. She pondered the problem at length, finishing her wine and staring a second glass when an idea occurred to her, and recalled a rumor she had filed in her memory, one interesting but unimportant to her at the time. Her full lips pursed thoughtfully before smiling. Yes, it had possibilities. Ordinarily these men would not be available for hire, but they had recently broken away amicably with their former master to form their own criminal organization. No doubt a lucrative offer from her would be welcome. And even if they did not succeed in killing Nightwing, they would distract the boy long enough for her to discover if Akane indeed was what Talia and her father desired.

"Ubu!" Talia called. Her giant bodyguard stepped into the archway of the bathing chamber, eyes respectfully averted.

"Yes mistress?" his basso voice rumbled.

"Contact Angel Vallelunga. Tell him the Daughter of the Demon wishes to speak with him." Ubu salaamed and departed, and Talia al Ghul began plotting the entrapment and death of Ranma Saotome.


	10. Chapter 9

Shadows Over Nerima

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.

Chapter 9

Ranma Saotome grunted as he landed flat on his back. He stared stupidly at the dojo ceiling until a feminine face floated into his vision. It was a pretty face, framed by silky black hair cut in a chin length bob. The young woman was smiling mischievously, her dark brown eyes bright with amusement.

"Chee, Ranma," said Kairi Tanaga. "What is with you today? I'm practically throwing you around at will, and there is no way I should be able to do that."

"Kairi is correct," said Yoru Yamamoto sternly. The old master stood by the back wall of his training hall, arms folded across his lean chest. "Concentrate, or else leave here and don't come back until you are able to spar properly."

Ranma started and kipped up to his feet. "Yes Yoru-sensei. I'm sorry." He bowed to Yoru then to Kairi. "Sorry Kairi. I'll do better now, I promise."

"You better," said Kairi. "I was hoping to have something of a challenge today, yet here I am kicking your butt completely when I should only be kicking it thoroughly."

"Feh!" Ranma swiped the tip of his nose with his thumb and set into an active guard. "The only butt getting kicked from here on out is yours."

"Big talk from a little boy," said Kairi with a grin. "Can you back it up, little brother?"

"Enough," said Yoru. A smile flickered briefly across his face. "Begin."

Ranma fought much better, and Kairi found herself hard pressed for the next five minutes. After getting dropped to the mat for the third time she held up her hand. "All right, you can back it up." she said with a laugh. Ranma helped her to her feet. "About time you woke up. I was starting to think you finally got bored with me."

"Much better," said Yoru. "I hope this slackness you demonstrated earlier is not a habit with you, Ranma." He eyed Ranma critically.

Ranma shook his head hastily. "No, sensei. Bruce wouldn't allow it. Trust me. It's just..." he sighed and bowed his head. "I've had a lot on my mind lately, and I guess it distracted me."

Yoru's expression softened slightly. "I understand, Ranma. But remember always that distraction is something you can ill-afford."

"I know, Yoru-sensei. I usually focus much better than I did today. I think I let my guard down because I considered it safe to do so around Kairi." Kairi punched his arm playfully. He mock-glared at her. "For a relative value of safe, that is."

Yoru smiled fondly at his students. "Very well. I have some correspondence I wish to attend to. I will see you both at dinner." Students and master exchanged bows and Yoru left the training hall.

Once he was out of earshot Kairi turned to Ranma. "So, why is your head in the clouds today? That's not like you. I mean, you're a bit weird, but never flighty."

Ranma snorted. "Thanks Kairi. I feel so loved."

Kairi giggled. "Seriously, little brother, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Ranma walked to the hall's open front doors to sit down on the steps. Kairi joined him, and they looked out at Yoru-sensei's well kept garden. In the distance the Tokyo skyline glittered like a faery kingdom, enchanting and serene. Ranma rubbed the line of his jaw. "I'm just trying to adjust to the garbage my parents dumped on me. That's all."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah."

"Very well. But I have to say, you're acting like you have a crush on someone."

Ranma sputtered. "Wha-what? Yeah, right! What makes you say that?"

Kairi grinned. "Because I've seen the signs before."

Ranma stared at her gape-mouthed for a moment. "All right," he said quietly. "Maybe I sorta do." His shoulders slumped. He tugged at his gi pants and looked down dejectedly at his feet. "Not that it matters, since it's just as hopeless as the last crush I had."

"Ranma," breathed Kairi. She slid closer to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "I never meant to hurt you, Ranma."

"I know, Kairi. I'm not mad at you about that. I never was. I mean, I was thirteen and you were nineteen. I was just a stupid kid." He laughed a little sourly. "Not that that has changed much in three years, since I'm being stupid now."

"Maybe, maybe not. Tell me about it?"

Ranma mulled over Kairi's request for a few moments then began to speak about Akane Tendo, from his first brief encounter with her to their spar in the Tendo dojo. When he finished Kairi smiled at him. "Wow. She sounds just your type. What's the problem?"

"You mean besides the whole secret identity thing where she's seen me more often in a mask than not? Well, there's the fact that our idiot parents _wants_ me to marry one of the Tendo girls, and if I express anything more than polite friendship to Akane it's gonna cause trouble neither of us really need. Not to mention I don't even _live_ in Japan any more. Who knows when I'll be back. Like I said, it's stupid for me to feel this way."

"Those are problems," conceded Kairi. "But since were you the kind of guy who lets problems get in his way? You've solved much harder ones like this." She snapped her fingers. "I think you should try seeing her again, in one guise or the other. What do you have to lose? You could end up having a lot of fun. You do know what fun is, right?"

"I have a lot of fun," Ranma protested indignantly.

"I mean the kind of fun that doesn't involve someone beating someone else up." Kairi thought for a moment and grinned slyly. "Though from what you told me about your spar, Akane seems to like that sort of thing. Kinky girl."

"Kairi!"

"You're such a prude, little brother," she laughed, giving him a hug. "Just think about what I said. Who knows what the future holds?" She stood and stretched. "I'm going to clean up. See you at dinner." She trotted off for the bath, leaving Ranma to ponder what she said.

After a while Ranma stood up, shaking his head. "Maybe it _would _be fun, but it's still a bad idea," he muttered. When he saw Akane again it would be as a hidden guardian, in an effort to find out who was spying on her, and nothing else. But he also decided that it would not hurt to try to do something else for her as well. She deserved it, and he was her friend. A few minutes later he was knocking at Yoru-sensei's study. "Sensei, could I talk to you? There's someone I want to discuss.

* * *

The man displayed on the flat-screen was broad-shouldered and fierce, dressed in military khakis. His head was bald, save for a close cut horseshoe fringe, and a scar arched from the side of his right eye. The skin around his mouth was tattooed – black bullets, forming an outline of a falcon with its wings spread. The man inclined his head slightly. "Talia al-Ghul," he said, his English spiced with a South American accent.

"Bird," greeted Talia. "Thank you for responding so promptly. I wish to hire you and your men."

"We charge high for our services."

"And I pay well those who serve the Demon. For you, fifty million dollars – ten million on acceptance of my offer, fifteen more upon your arrival at where I need you, and the balance when you complete the assignment."

"You have my attention. What do you want done?"

"I want you to ambush and kill someone interfering in my operations in Tokyo."

Bird considered this. "Intriguing. You command a cadre of the most dangerous assassins on Earth. Why commission outsiders to facilitate a death?" His flint-cruel eyes narrowed. "It involves the Bat, and you wish him to remain ignorant of your own involvement."

Talia nodded in acknowledgment. "Your target is Nightwing."

"The Son of the Bat," said Bird. Talia's eyes flashed but she held her tongue. "If we kill Nightwing, my men and I will never know peace again. The Batman will harry us ceaselessly."

Talia smiled mockingly. "Afraid, Bird?"

"Watch how you speak to me," he said softly. "I respect your power and that of Ra's al-Ghul, but I am not a man to be despised. And while I no longer serve him, Bane is still my blood brother."

"I know you are a dangerous man. I would not have contacted you if I did not think you capable of this."

Bird nodded once. "It is well-known you love Batman. If I kill Nightwing, I will do my best to also kill the Bat when he comes for me. Do you object?"

"No. I am not that unreasonable," said Talia. _Besides, one way or the other, you will not be a threat to my beloved._

"I will also not hesitate to call on Bane's aid against Batman. Indeed, I will not need to – my blood brother is still sworn to break him. Again, do you object?"

"You may defend yourself as you see fit," said Talia magnanimously. "All I want, after Nightwing's death, is your silence."

Bird's mouth writhed in a parody of a smile. "Very well. I accept your commission."

"Excellent. Let us talk details."

* * *

Author's Note: A short chapter, but it sets up the action of the rest of the story. I believe we are now at the half-way mark, though considering my sometimes by the seat of my pants plotting that may change.

Cheers.

Jeremy Harper


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